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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/courseofstudypreOOwatt 



A 

PREPARATORY TO THE 
TO WHICH IS ANNEXED 

A MEMOIR 



PRIVATE OR DOMESTIC LIVES 



MOM^JfS. 



•o^ 



fr 



BY GEO': WATTERSTON. 
if 



WASHINGTON 



PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY DAVIS" AND FORCE, (FRANKLIN'S 
HEAD J PENNSYLVANIA AVENUE. 



823. 



1 ! ^IK* 






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b?5 > 



£4 






DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, to wit : 

Be it remembered, that on the nineteenth day of Decem» 
ber, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and 
twenty-three, and of the Independence of the United States of 
America the forty-eighth, Davis & Force, of the said District 
have deposited in the Office of the Clerk of the District Court 
for the District of Columbia, the title of a Book, the right 
whereof they claim as Proprietors, in the words following, to wit : 

" A Course of Study, preparatory to the Bar or the Senate; to 
which is annexed, a memoir on the Private or Domestic Lives 
of the Romans'''' — By Geo. Watterslon. 

In conformity to the Act of the Congress of the United States, 
entitled " An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing 
the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Pro- 
prietors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned " — 
and also to the Act, entitled "An Act supplementary to an Act, 
entitled ' An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing 
the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Pro- 
prietors ot such copies during the time? therein mentioned,' 
and extending the benefits thereof to the arts of designing, engrav- 
ing, and etching, historical and other prints;" 

In testimony whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, 
J" »'J au( j affixed the public seal of my office, the day and 
year aforesaid. 

EDM. I. LEE, 

Clerk of the District Court for the District of Columbia, 



Placed in a situation in which I have had frequent opportu- 
nities of witnessing the lamentable waste of time in many who 
have been disposed to be studious, from the want of an in- 
structer to point out the course of reading they should 
pursue ; it struck me that a work, like the following, might 
be productive of advantage. 

How far this expectation may be realized, time will soon 
determine ; my object however, has been, to contribute my 
small mite, to the benefit of my fellow men, and to promote 
the cause of literature and science. That it will have this 
tendency, must I think, be admitted by all who may favour 
this little volume with a perusal ; but if the smallest benefit be 
the result, I shall feel myself amply compensated for the labour 
and the time I have devoted to it. In the wide and desultory 
range of reading and uf study adopted by young men in general, 
I have seen, with regret, that much time has been wasted, 
which, if employed in a more judicious manner, would have 
yielded the most lasting advantage. The necessity of a 
proper course of preparatory study, to the lawyer and the 
statesman, must be obvious ; and the only obstacle I appre- 
hend, to the adoption of such a course, is the difficulty of 
finding a monitor or guide, to direct their way, and facilitate 
their progress in the march of intellectual improvement. The 
practice of the law is usually commenced at too early a 
period of life in this country — the preparatory information 
with which it is begun, is often too limited and circumscribed 
to render the profession itself productive, as it ought to be, of 
the highest distinction and the greatest pecuniary benefit. The 
legal profession in the United States, is for the most part a 



aV. PREFACE, 

leading step to a more elevated rank in life and a wider sphere 
of usefulness, and the knowledge which precedes it, ought 
of consequence to be such as to qualify a man for any con- 
dition in which he may be placed. But I think this little work 
will be not only useful to the man who means to adopt the 
law as a profession, and to render himself useful in the councils, 
of his country ; but also to those who have no other object than, 
to improve and cultivate their minds. In speaking of each 
science, I have endeavoured to point out the books proper to 
be read and the course necessary to be pursued with a view 
to render it more accessible and more easily attained. Any. 
department of knowledge, therefore, may be acquired by pur- 
suing the course I have laid down, should the individual be 
disposed to study but a single branch of science apart from 
the rest. Its greatest utility, however, will be to him who 
wishes to embrace the whole circle of knowledge I have mark- 
ed out, and to advance in regular progression from the first 
simple elements of learning to the widest range of intellectual 
acquirement. 

This little work was prepared about three years ago, and 
undertaken from the motives I have already mentioned. Since 
that I have seen an English work somewhat similar in its gene- 
ral character, by Joyce Carpenter and Shepherd, in two volumcs 9 
but which is rather too voluminous and extended, I think, for gen- 
eral use. I confess that my pretensions are very humble and that 
my principal aim has been barely to present a little guide to 
the studiously inclined youth of my country which will enable 
them to advance in knowledge and improve their minds, in the 
easiest and most advantageous manner. 

The Memoir which is annexed, was also written at the same 
time and before the publication of a work which has recently 
appeared on the domestic manners of the Romans. They are 
both, however, derived from nearly the same authorities and al- 
most the same source. I find that he is indebted, as well as my- 
self, to three dissertations contained in the first volume of the Me- 



PREFACE. V. 

moirs de LMcademie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres, and to 
D'Arnay's work on the same subject. I have, however, en= 
deavoured to preserve the arrangement adopted by the French 
author, as being the most lucid, and to condense all the infor- 
mation I could collect, in relation to the private or domestic 
manners of the Romans into as small a compass as possible. It 
i's brief and will, I hope, be found useful. 



CONTENTS. 



LETTER 1. On the Study of the Languages, Ancient and 

Modern,.... 13 

2. On a course of Rhetoric, Oratory, and Po- 

etry, 42 

3. On a course of Logic and Mathematics, 59 

4. On Natural Philosophy, 70 

5. On Drawing, Painting, Architecture, and 

M usic, . 76 

6. On a course of Ancient History,.... 92 

7. On a course of Modern History, 102 

8. On the Objects and Uses of History,. 121 

9. On a course of C mistry and Mineralogy,.. 133 

10. On a course of Botany and Zoology, 143 

11. On a course of Moral and Political Philo- 

sophy, Public Law, and Political Econo- 
my 156 

12. On a proper Division of Time,... 175 

Memoir on the Domestic, or Private Lives of the Romans. 

Letter 1 IPS 

2 194 

3 206 

4 228 



LETTER I. 



ON THE STUDY OF LANGUAGES, ANCIENT AND 
MODERN. 



My Dear Son : 

You have desired me to communicate my 
ideas to you on a system of education, calculated 
for the Bar and the Senate ; or, in other words, to 
point out a course of study that will tend to ren- 
der you distinguished as a lawyer, and eminent as 
a statesman. I feel great pleasure in complying 
with this desire, not only because it evinces a love 
of excellence which I am happy to find you pos- 
sess, and which I delight to cherish ; but because 
it convinces me you are determined to adopt and 
pursue such a plan of instruction as maj, the most 
effectually, conduce to your future welfare, and 
the best enable you to attain a reputation and 
standing in society, correspondent to your wishes. 
The task you have imposed upon me is, however, 
one of considerable difficulty and labour, and will 
require much research and investigation 5 but as 
I hope it may be for your benefit, and for that of 
others who intend to pursue the same professional 



14 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

career, I do not hesitate to undertake it. And I 
indulge the belief that, having undertaken it, you 
have made up your mind to persevere in the 
course I shall lay down, until you have completed 
the entire circle, and made yourself acquainted 
with the various branches of knowledge it will em- 
brace. 

At this enlightened period of the world, my 
dear son, it would be worse than superfluous 
to attempt to exhibit the advantages which result 
from the possession of a complete and liberal ed- 
ucation. The most ignorant, as well as the most 
intelligent, are conscious of its benefits, and can 
feel and appreciate its utility. Intellectual light 
is as agreeable and delightful to the mind, as phy- 
sical light to the corporal eye. Ignorance, like 
the deadly incubus, the dreamy midnight hag that 
hovers over our slumbers, palsies the energies, and 
withers the faculties of the human mind, which has 
been so organized as to require the stimulus of 
light to render it active and powerful and vigor- 
ous. Ignorance is not only a condition of helpless- 
ness, but of pain, and the constant efforts of the 
mind are made to remove the darkness in which it 
is involved, and to grasp the light whose glimpses 
it discerns at a distance. 

"if ignorance be bliss, 'tis folly to be wise. 1 " 



ANCIENT AND MODERN, 



But ignorance is far from being a source either 
of enjoyment, or of happiness. The mind of an 
ignorant man is an aching void, actuated alone by 
mere animal instincts, and seeking its gratification 
in what finally contributes only to its misery. On 
the contrary, the mind of him who has devoted his 
time to its cultivation and improvement, is a lux- 
uriant and variegated field, where flowers of every 
hue, and fruits of every flavour, are to be found in 
the richest profusion ; where ail is fullness, and ev- 
ery thing that vegetates, teems with fragrance, and 
shoots forth with luxuriance and beauty. How 
vast ! how immeasurable is the distance between 
such a being as a Newton and an illiterate African ! 
It is almost as great as that which exists between 
an angel and a brute. But this superiority results 
not less from the power which education bestows, 
for " knowledge is power," than from the virtues 
which it inculcates and instils into the human 
soul. The effects of ignorance, in a moral and 
political point of view, are appalling and dread- 
ful. Vice is the natural concomitant of dark- 
ness, and iniquity is apt to spread and diffuse itself 
in its native element, and to acquire vigour and 
strength, where no bounds are presented to its 
progress, and no checks are offered to its growth. 
It belongs then to the statesman and the legisla- 
tor to watch, with a vigilant eye, over the ex 



16 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

istence of this evil ; and, by the establishment of 
seminaries of instruction wherever they can be 
placed, to counteract its baleful tendency, by 
shedding the light of truth and knowledge over the 
human mind. It should at all times be consider- 
ed, that every intellectual acquisition is a virtue ; 
because, as we advance in intelligence, we the 
nearer approximate the great fountain of light and 
knowledge. 

The celebrated Addison has elegantly remark- 
ed, " To look upon the soul as going on from 
strength to strength ; to consider that she is to 
shine for ever with new accessions of glory and 
brighten to all eternity ; that she will be still ad- 
ding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge ; 
carries in it something wonderfully agreeable to 
that ambition which is natural to the mind of man. 
Nay, it must be a prospect pleasing to God him- 
self, to see his creation forever beautifying in his 
eyes, and drawing near to him by greater degrees 
of resemblance." Such must and will be the na- 
tural progress of a well-regulated mind. Ignor- 
ance is a condition it cannot relish either in itself 
or others ; it constantly presses forward in its ef- 
forts to obtain new accessions of knowledge, nor 
pauses in its career, till death has closed the of- 
ten eventful drama of life* 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 17 

In the acquisition of human knowledge, how- 
ever, many difficulties are sometimes experienced 
by those who are even disposed to be studious. 
No " guide, philosopher and friend," presents 
himself to smooth the ascent of science, and to 
point out the path through the dark and intricate 
mazes of perplexity in which they often find them- 
selves involved. Disgusted with the toil they en- 
counter, and the obscurity which surrounds them, 
from the want of a guide and a monitor, men are 
often led to abandon a science in which they 
would, perhaps, have excelled, or to start back, 
in terror, from the acquirement of some branch of 
knowledge which would have added to their hap- 
piness, and rendered them more useful to them- 
selves and to society. 

It is melancholy to contemplate the painful ef- 
forts of young men who are even devoted to study, 
floundering through the sciences, like a traveller, 
bewildered in the mazes of a forest, and led on 
by the faint glimmerings of light which occasion- 
ally flashes across his path, glares for a moment, 
and then disappears. It too often happens that 
they begin at the wrong end, and though they read 
much, acquire but little. The expense of time 
and labour, thus occasioned, is immense and la- 
mentable; and, however paradoxical it may seem, 
B 2 



IS STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

habits of literary indolence are engendered that 
are afterwards found to be too deeply rooted to 
be easily abandoned. They endeavour, it is true, 
to grope through the scientific labyrinth, they con- 
ceive it necessary to pass without a clew to guide 
their footsteps ; but soon find themselves irrecov- 
erably lost and bewildered, in its dark and inex- 
tricable mazes, and either give up the pursuit in 
despair, or continue to flounder on without profit 
to themselves or advantage to others. 

The temple of science, however, is not difficult 
of access to those, even of ordinary minds, who 
pursue the true path that leads to it, with the 
perseverance such an object requires. However 
arduous and forbiding the ascent to learning may, 
at the first glance, appear, it is, nevertheless, one 
of comparative, ease and delight to those whose 
course has been directed by the hand of friend- 
ship or of skill. " Laborious indeed," says Mil- 
ton," at the first ascent, but else so smooth, so 
green, and so full of godly prospect and melodious 
sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus 
was not more charming." The delightful connex- 
ion and harmony which exist among the various 
sciences, make the knowledge of one an easy step 
towards the acquirement of another, and, if the 
elements of each are properly understood, (and it 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 19 

will occupy no great length of time thus to under- 
stand them) an acquaintance with the whole may 
be attained in a much shorter time, and with much 
less labour, than men are disposed at first to be- 
lieve. The formidable array of volumes which a 
youth meets with in looking over an extensive li- 
brary, or its not less formidable catalogue, should 
give him no apprehensions, nor suffer his exer- 
tions, in the pursuit of knowledge, to cool or abate 
in the smallest degree. But few of the myriads of 
" ponderous tomes" he beholds, are necessary to 
be read ; but these few should be studied till their 
matter is imbibed, and their principles thoroughly 
understood and mastered. The elementary wri- 
ters in every science are not very numerous ; they 
form but a small phalanx, and to the studious and 
diligent a no very formidable one. They must, 
however, be diligently and carefully studied, or 
excellence will be impossible. They constitute 
the foundation, and in some cases the superstruc- 
ture of science, and, without them, no correct 
knowledge need be expected. A knowledge of 
these, and these alone, will lead to the possession of 
that "complete and generous education which," 
according to Milton, "fits a man to perform justly, 
skilfully and magnanimously all the offices both 
private and public, of peace and war." It is to 
show how this is to be effected, in the easiest and 



20 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

best possible manner, that I have been induced, 
at your request, to attempt the present arduous 
undertaking. 

J¥ou will understand it is not my intention, 
my dear son, to convey an idea that every 
thing must be known. That indeed is impos- 
sible, non omnes omnia possunt, but I do think that 
he who wishes to occupy a distinguished rank 
in society, ought not to be absolutely ignorant of 
any branch of human knowledge whatever, and 
if he study the sciences as they should be studied, 
he must and will be acquainted with the whole, if 
not profoundly, at least sufficiently so for all the 
purposes of professional distinction and social 
utility. 

The sciences so enter into each other, are so 
blended and intermingled together, form so delight- 
ful a harmony and so exquisite a union, that to be 
well versed in one is, in a degree, to be acquainted 
with the whole. " They are branches of the same 
tree,' 1 says a French writer, " the links of an im- 
mense chain, the veins and ramifications of a vast 
and fruitful mine, the provinces and cantons of the 
same empire, and though their parts are subdivided, 
detached, and distinct, the)' are, at the same time, 
combined, co-ordinate and identified in one great 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 21 

whole." " The taking a taste of every sort of 
knowledge," says Locke, " is necessary to form 
the mind, and is the only way to give the under- 
standing its due improvement to the full extent of 
its capacity." 

It must not, however, be inferred from what 
hasbeen said, that any individual, whatever may be 
the power and extent of his capacity, should la- 
bour to make himself a perfect master of every 
science, because that would require a greater 
length of time, and a more comprehensive range 
of mind, than are allotted to the most favourite and 
the most gifted child of genius. But it is, never- 
theless, within the reach, and ought to be the ob- 
ject, of every individual who wishes to rise above 
the ordinary level of mankind, and to render him- 
self useful and distinguished as a member of so- 
ciety, to acquire a general knowledge of the sci- 
ences and arts, correct, if not profound ; exact, if 
not minute. This accumulation of knowledge will 
be alarming, I doubt not, to weak and timid and or- 
dinary minds, imbued as they are with prejudices 
which retard and embarrass the march of the hu- 
man intellect, but it will warm and elevate the 
mind of him whose superior genius will apply the 
often quoted words of the Latin poet, homo sum, 
et humani a me nil alienum puto, "lama man. 



22 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

and nothing that interests humanity shall ever he 
a stranger to me." 

It will, at the same time, he proper to remark, 
that in acquiring the scope of general knowledge 
I shall recommend for attainment, it must not be 
forgotten, that the particular profession which is to 
be embraced must always claim the paramount at- 
tention and devotion of every individual who de- 
sires to rise to eminence and distinction. Prepar- 
atory, however, to the commencement of his pro- 
fessional studies, and afterwards in connexion with 
them, the range of study I shall delineate, must be 
attended to ; and the various branches of knowledge 
which have a connexion, more or less intimate, 
with the profession to which he specially conse- 
crates his life, should, by all means, be acquired. 

The great secret of education is to produce 
a strong desire to learn, and a vehement love 
of excellence. Without motives like these, all 
will be vain, and the unaspiring youth may 
delve and " plod his weary way" in obedience 
to the rigid and imperious commands of his in- 
structer ; but he will never be distinguished for 
depth of knowledge, or extent and variety of in- 
tellectual resources. In many, I doubt not, these 
motives and feelings operate with considerable 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 23 

force, and barely require a proper direction to 
render them productive not only of the greatest 
possible advantage, but of the highest attainable 
happiness. This, it will be my task to attempt, 
and I trust that attempt will not be altogether 
vain. 

The study of languages is usually and properly 
the first step in a liberal and enlarged system of 
education. The youthful mind is peculiarly fitted 
for the acquirement and retention of words; but 
not sufficiently expanded and vigorous to compre- 
hend the nature, principles, and objects of posi- 
tive science. Memory is the first faculty that un- 
folds itself, and perhaps the most susceptible of 
improvement. Languages, therefore, as a branch 
of elementary knowledge, should be early attend- 
ed to. They are emphatically the key to science 
and the spring of life cannot be more judiciously 
or advantageously employed than in acquiring 
them. A knowledge of what are termed the dead 
and of some of the living languages, I conceive to 
be absolutely indispensable to the character of a 
fine scholar, and an able and distinguished civilian 
and statesman ; and it is exceedingly to be regret- 
ted that these, especially the learned languages, 
are so much neglected in our country. This has 
arisen from a mistaken idea that their attainment 



24 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

takes up too much time, and that the period usu- 
ally devoted to their acquisition, might be better 
employed in acquiring more solid and useful infor- 
mation. No error can be more glaring than this: 
every day's experience demonstrates its fallacy. 

The acquirement of the dead languages will be 
found to be attended with great and permanent 
advantages; among which, it will be sufficient 
barely to mention its tendency to improve the 
principal faculties of the mind, and to beget a 
purity and refinement of taste that no other kind 
of learning can bestow. The memory, for ex- 
ample, must be invigorated by the habitual ex- 
ercise it undergoes, in the acquisition and reten- 
tion of strange words and foreign expressions • 
the judgment is improved, from the necessity the 
learner is under of selecting, out of many, the 
most suitable word to express the idea of the ori- 
ginal — for the original gives the idea only ; the 
imagination is chastened and improved by the 
exquisite imagery, and the rich, chaste, and beau- 
tiful colouring the ancient authors display ; and 
the taste is improved by the fine models of pu- 
rity and beauty, and the refined and delicate 
touches of nature, every where diffused over the 
pages of the Greek and Roman classics. The 
most eminent and distinguished men in oratory. 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 2o 

poetry, history, law, &c. have been well vers- 
ed in those languages, and have had their minds 
early imbued with a love of these chaste and 
polished models of antiquity. " Classical learn- 
ing," says lady Chudleigh, "is the sure foun- 
dation of all other polite learning in the world, 
and is what men of taste in all ages and nations 
have so eagerly studied, and so unanimously ad- 
mired." Be, therefore, solicitous to master them ; 
regard not the difficulties that may arise, at first, 
to impede your progress ; they will soon, by a 
little perseverance and application, be surmount- 
ed, and, when you have reached that point of 
familiarity with them which will enable you to 
relish their beauties, and feel and enjoy their ex- 
cellences, they will become a source of high and 
exquisite gratification that will never forsake you, 
even amidst the dull and vapid realities of life. In 
acquiring those languages, it will be necessary to 
observe the peculiarities of style; the fine thoughts 
and daring felicities of expression which distin- 
guish the authors you are reading, and to endea- 
vour, frequently, to commit to memory the finest 
and most beautiful passages that are to be found 
in the poets of Greece and Rome. This will 
strengthen the memory, improve the taste, and 
furnish you with happy illustrations, and apt 
and appropriate allusions. It will be proper, too. 
C 



26 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 

to keep up this practice while reading modern 
poetry : you will find, as many of the most distin- 
guished modern orators have found, that it is of 
much greater advantage than you may now be dis- 
posed to believe. Of the copiousness, harmony, 
grace, and beauty, of the Greek and Latin lan- 
guages, it is unnecessary to say any thing. Those 
who study them, with that care and attention 
which they deserve, will soon be enabled to judge 
for themselves, and, of consequence, capable of 
relishing their various excellences, without the 
aid of criticism. But I must take the liberty to 
observe, en passant, that, of all the languages, an- 
cient or modern, I conceive the Greek to be the 
most admirable. A knowledge of that language 
was deemed by the Latins to be an indispensable 
branch of study, and should be so considered by 
the present and every future age. It is the foun- 
dation of most other languages, and is so blended 
with the sciences, as almost to form their key- 
stone and ground work. 

In studying these languages, be particularly at- 
tentive to their grammatical construction ; en- 
deavour to make yourself well acquainted with 
the theory as well as the practice of grammar, 
and strive to be able not only to apply its rules 
with facility, but (after you have made sufficient 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 27 

progress,) also to understand its abstract nature 
and philosophical principles. " Without gram- 
mar," says Burgh, " there can be no regular edu- 
cation. And the grammar of one language may 
as well be learned as another, the science being, 
in the main, the same in all. It is very well known 
that most of the European languages are more 
Latin than any thing else. And what more tho- 
rough method is there of letting a person into the 
spirit of a language, than by making him early 
acquainted with the original roots from whence 
it is derived." You will find the study of gen- 
eral grammar very interesting and useful, and, as 
you advance in the knowledge of languages, their 
philosophy will be more easily comprehended and 
understood. Nothing displays better the charac- 
ter of the human understanding, its extent and 
capacity, than the theory of language. It unfolds 
those fundamental laws which, resulting from the 
logical analysis of thought, are necessarily com- 
mon to all languages, and anterior to all conven- 
tions.* 

Universal grammar has of late been, with pro- 
priety, considered as a branch of metaphysical 
science and an introduction to logic. Its end is 
to treat of words, or the signs of our ideas, and 

* Tracy, 



28 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 

the analysis of these signs constitute an impor- 
tant portion of metaphysical knowledge. " We 
know," says Detutt Tracy, " that every system 
of signs is a language, and that since all discourse 
is the manifestation of our ideas, it is the perfect 
knowledge of these ideas that can alone enable 
ns to discover the true organization of discourse, 
and completely develope the secret mechanism 
of its composition. 55 

The philosophy of grammar, or rather of lan- 
guage, will be found unfolded in the pages of Tra- 
cy's Idiology, Took's Diversions of Purley, and 
Harris, Hermes, which it will be proper to examine 
with attention, before you close this branch of your 
studies. These writers will let you into the se- 
crets of language, and make you comprehend, 
more perfectly, its nature, objects, and end. — 
With practical grammar, and especially with that 
of your own language, you must endeavour to be 
thoroughly and intimately acquainted. It is pain- 
ful to see men, and men too of classical attain- 
ments, evincing an occasional ignorance of some 
of the common rules of the grammar of their own 
tongue — an ignorance indeed quite unpardonable, 
when it is considered how easily it may be under- 
stood by those who know well the grammar of any 
other language. The best system of English 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 29 

grammar is that of Murray, which should be fre- 
quently consulted* 

When you have obtained a sufficient knowledge 
of the Latin and Greek, (for of the Hebrew I 
shall say nothing, because it does not enter into 
the plan of study I shall lay down,) to be able 
to read the classical writers in their own langua- 
ges with facility, you will then enjoy their beau- 
ties, and be less disposed afterwards to abandon 
them — a practice which, I regret to say, is but 
too common among the educated young men of this 
country. This reprehensible negligence should 
be cautiously avoided by all who desire to derive 
advantage from their classical attainments ; and, to 
retain the knowledge which has been thus, with 
some labour aco A uired, it will be necessary, from 
time to time, to look over some favourite author of 
antiquity, and occasionally to translate passages 
from your own, into the languages of Greece and 
Rome, Sir William Jones and Gibbon, two illus- 
trious names, pursued this plan with great success 
and much advantage, and the latter, who has fur- 
nished in himself an excellent example of study, 
strongly recommends it to the imitation of stu- 
dents. But, while I recommend such a proficien- 
cy in those languages as I have mentioned, I do 
not wish to be understood as conceiving it either 
C 2 



30 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

important or essential, that you should be pro- 
foundly and critically versed in their different 
idioms and various metres, or be able to write 
therewith fluency. I wish that degree of skill to 
be left to professors who make teaching the occu- 
pation of life. It is enough that you can read 
them with such ease as to be capable of feeling 
and relishing the numerous and exquisite beauties 
in which the classical writers abound. To this 
point your efforts must be directed, and if you 
have even an ordinary tact for the attainment of 
language, you will be able to reach it without any 
very appalling difliculty : And when you have 
reached it, the acquirement of the modern lan- 
guages will be a source rather of pleasure than of 
pain. Of those, the most useful are, the French, 
Spanish, Italian, and, if you please, *he German. 
These, like the dead languages, may be regarded 
as instruments of knowledge, calculated to open 
to your mind a wider field, and more extended 
range of thought. Experience will show that the 
labour and difficulty of acquiring the dead, as well 
as the living languages, exist more in fancy than 
reality. In the short interval of eight months, 
Gibbon made himself a complete master of the 
Latin and French, with which he had previously 
been but superficially, acquainted ; read a great 
deal in both, went through the Greek grammar, 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 31 

and mastered the principles of De Crousas' Logic. 
And a French writer of considerable ability, asserts 
that, with a knowledge of the grammar, barely suf- 
ficient to distinguish the cases of nouns, and the 
principal tenses of the verbs, a very competent fa- 
cility in reading Greek may be obtained in the 
short space of five or six months. His plan is first 
to take up some easy author, such as iEsop, or 
what would be still better, Dalzell's Collectanea 
Graeca Minora ; study these well, pass on to the 
History of Animals by Elian, or the Graeca Ma- 
jora, then commence Homer, and commit to me- 
mory, every evening, the passages that have been 
well understood. After this, proceed to translate, 
successively, Xenophon, Plato, and lastly Sopho- 
cles, and if the student should meet, in his pro- 
gress, with any very obscure passage which cannot 
be explained by the scholiasts, it should be drop- 
ped, till he is better skilled in the language. "I 
experienced, at first, some embarrassments, in 
pursuing this plan," says Deleuze, the writer 1 
have alluded to ; " but the difficulties insensibly 
vanished ; the analogy of words enabled me to 
recognise the roots, I became passionately fond 
of Homer ; the verses which I had committed, re- 
called to me his expressions, and accustomed my 
ear to his harmony. In fine, in less than six 
months I was in a condition to read Sophocles, 



32 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 

In each new author, I experienced some difficulty 
at the commencement, but after having made 
some efforts through the first pages, I seized the 
sense with a facility that was a matter of aston- 
ishment even to myself." 

To those who are unacquainted with the Latin, 
or who know it imperfectly, I would recommend 
a similar plan for the study of that language.— 
Begin with Ross 5 Grammar, which may be com- 
mitted to memory in two weeks ; proceed to 
the Historiae Sacras ; thence to Caesar's Commen- 
taries, in connexion with the six first books of 
Ovid. Read, successively, Virgil and Sallust, 
Horace and Livy, and, finally, Cicero's Orations : 
the whole of which may be accomplished, even 
without the aid of a teacher, by due perseverance 
and proper industry, in a much shorter period of 
time than might be imagined. But, in learning 
the Latin and Greek, 1 beg you to remember ne- 
ver to resort to translations to enable you to ac- 
quire a knowledge of these, or, indeed, of any 
other languages. Its tendency is to produce ha- 
bits of indolence, by enabling you to get, with too 
much facility, at the meaning of the words you de- 
sire to translate. This facility enfeebles the me- 
mory, and by thus depending so little upon it, the 
foreign word is no sooner acquired than it is for- 



A2M3IEWT AND MODERN. 33 

gotten, and language, in truth, becomes nothing 
more than "winged words." Such has ever been, 
and will ever be, the case with those who, instead 
of learning a language by the assistance of a dic- 
tionary, have recourse to translations, to relieve 
them from the labour of turning over its leaves 
to find out the meaning of the words that occur 
id the original. 

In acquiring the living languages I have recom- 
mended, the best system you can adopt, is that 
pursued by Pestalozzi ; which is to repeat the 
names of things in the language you are learning, 
under one well acquainted with it, until you have 
mastered both the pronunciation and meaning of 
the words — the different cases of the nouns — the 
moods and tenses of the verbs — and the peculi- 
arity of the idiom by which it is distinguished — 
and then frequently to translate from your own, 
into the language you are studying. This will 
give you great facility in speaking and writing it ; 
make you better and more critically acquainted 
with all its delicacies, and considerably abridge 
the time usually devoted to its attainment. 

However dry and uninteresting the study of 
languages may seem at first, it will not long re- 
main so. When you have made such progress 



34 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 

as to be able to read them with even moderate 
facility, a wide field of beauty and enjoyment 
will be unfolded to your mind. You will be thus 
introduced into the society of illustrious men of 
all ages ; will become familiar with their finest 
thoughts, and their happiest and most exquisite 
bursts of feeling and of fancy, in the language in 
which they were displayed. This can never be 
seen or felt in translations — in them, much is lost 
or concealed, and almost every thing is changed. 
It is like looking at the exquisite features and ra- 
diant beauty of a lovely woman, through a thick 
and almost impervious veil. The outline may 
be discerned, but the colour, the expression, the 
beauty, are gone. Where is the resemblance be- 
tween the Illiad of Pope and that of Homer ? 
The majesty, the grandeur, the sublimity, which 
distinguish the " prince of poets," are lost in the 
musical verbiage of his translator. Could the 
sublimity of Milton, or the beauty of Thompson, 
be transfused into the language of France, Italy, 
or Spain ? How much of the charm of each would 
be lost by such a transmutation! Languages, in- 
deed, differ not only in the words of which they 
are composed, but in the shades of ideas which 
these words express ; in the manner in which these 
ideas are subordinate to each other, in the ima- 
ges under which they are presented, and in the 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 35 

particular colours which they give to the leading 
thought. 

"It is not to know the facts that Tacitus re- 
counts," says Deleuze, 6i that one reads him in 
his own language, but to ascertain in what man- 
ner they are painted on the mind of this profound 
historian." A literary man acquires a language 
not barely to obtain additional facts, or to enlarge 
his circle of knowledge, but to see the different 
images under which the same thought may be 
presented, or the same idea painted. His memo- 
ry becomes enriched by the various turns and 
beautiful felicities of expression he meets with 
in the authors he reads ; and, in the exercise of 
translation, his intellect acquires a force and saga- 
city and power, that render him better qualified 
for higher attainments, and more scientific re- 
searches. These, however, are not all the advan- 
tages the knowledge of languages is calculated to 
afford. It breaks down those unreasonable pre- 
judices which are too apt to exist between nations, 
and introduces us into the society of men of all 
ages and of all countries, with whose names we 
might be familiar, but to whose minds we had 
been strangers. We become acquainted with the 
chefd^osuvre of human genius, ornament our minds 
with their fine conceptions and splendid images,, 



36 STUDY OP LANGUAGES, 

and improve our taste by the exquisite models of 
excellence they so abundantly afford. In all the 
professions, law — medicine- — divinity — and even 
commerce, their importance is felt and their util- 
ity acknowledged. It is lamentable to see a man 
following a profession which has appropriately 
been termed learned, without a knowledge of any 
language but his own, and often, indeed, but im- 
perfectly acquainted with that. He is sensible of 
his awkwardness, but thinks it cannot now be re- 
medied, and continues to blunder on, without be- 
ing able even to approach that elevation to which 
he might otherwise, in all probability, have at- 
tained. 

Of the nature and excellences of the living 
languages, I have recommended to your attention, 
it is unnecessary here to speak — they will be ob- 
vious when you have acquired them ; but, while 
engaged in the study of those languages, it ought 
always to be borne in mind, that your own must 
be the paramount object of attainment, to which 
all the rest must be subservient and conducive ; 
that you must not be satisfied with a slight or su- 
perficial acquaintance with it, but ? on the contra- 
ry, endeavour to understand it perfectly ; that all 
language is, in truth, but the medium by which 
knowledge is communicated, the electric chain 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 37 

along which the light of truth and of science is 
conducted, and not of itself an object of primary 
importance, or an acquirement of mere vanity. 

"Words are the daughters of earth— Things the sons of heaven.''' 

In studying the modern languages, always se- 
lect the best authors of each nation ; observe 
the peculiarities of their style and character — 
the various modes in which they present the same 
image — the different forms in which they exhibit 
the same thought — in short, be attentive to the 
beauty, grace, harmony, and power of which each 
language is susceptible, and in these, as in the 
dead languages, neglect not, occasionally, to com- 
mit the finest and most striking passages to me- 
mory. The French and Italian abound in such 
passages, and the Spanish is far from being entirely 
destitute of them. In Racine, Corneille, and Vol- 
taire of France, and Tasso, Ariosto, and Petrarch 
of Italy, they will be found in abundance, and by 
pursuing this plan, your memory will be improv- 
ed, your imagination enriched, and your know- 
ledge of language rendered more complete and 
perfect. In addition to these advantages, a know- 
ledge of the French and Spanish, will also be 
found of great and permanent utility. The 
French is now almost the language of the civil- 
ized world — nearly every where it is spoken 
D 



38 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

and understood ; and the Spanish, exclusive of 
its intrinsic beauty, dignity and pomp, is now, 
from its being spoken by a nation with which 
we must have constant intercourse, and frequent 
political and commercial relations, become a lan- 
guage, which it is important should be known 
by every American, and which ought, by no 
means, to be neglected. 

Versed in the Latin and Greek, it will occupy 
but a short portion of your time, to obtain such 
an acquaintance with the modern tongues as I 
have mentioned. Five or six months devoted 
to each, even in connexion with other studies, 
will be sufficient for that purpose, and if you 
have, as some men have, a peculiar tact or ap- 
titude for language, it will not take you so long. 
Sir William Jones, it is said, acquired a critical 
knowledge of each of the modern European 
languages in three months, and but few men, 
with ordinary minds, or more than common 
application, would exceed the period of half 
a year in acquiring any of the living languages 
1 have named. If, then, such be the ease with 
which they can be acquired, and the time neces- 
sary to their attainment so very brief and in- 
considerable, it should seem a matter of aston- 
ishment to every reflecting mind, that they are not 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 39 

more generally studied, not only by professional 
men, but by all who desire to increase their sour- 
ces of enjoyment, and to render themselves more 
useful to society. 

It will be obvious to you that a knowledge 
of the grammar is the first step towards the 
correct attainment of any language, where it 
is not generally used as a medium of communi- 
cation. DufiePs system, therefore, is one I do 
not think calculated for a beginner, in any 
other country than France, because he makes a 
knowledge of the language precede that of its 
grammar, which, though a natural plan, is more 
difficult and arduous to the learner. The best 
grammar of the French language, is that of Wa- 
nostrocht, with the exercises ; the best of the 
Italian is that of Antonini, and the best of the 
Spanish that of Fernandez. For the purpose, 
however, of uniting the study of Italian, Spanish, 
and Portuguese, the most useful grammar is that 
of Woodhouse, which exhibits, in a synoptical 
form, at one view, the agreements and differences 
in their grammatical construction, to which I 
would direct your attention. 

With a knowledge of the Latin and Greek 
grammars, such as you must necessarily pos- 



40 STUDY OF LANGUAGES, 

sess in acquiring those languages, it will not 
be required at first that you should commit 
more to memory in the grammars of the mo- 
dern tongues than the declensions of the nouns, 
the conjugations of the verbs, and the peculiar- 
ities of the idioms by which they are distin- 
guished. These, by a little effort, you will soon 
acquire, and, when you have acquired them^ 
your facility in speaking and reading these lan- 
guages will be soon experienced; but to be per- 
fect in them, the plan I have already suggested, 
namely, to exercise yourself frequently in trans- 
lating from your own into the language you are 
learning, and to endeavour, occasionally, to think 
in and speak it, will be found to be much the 
most useful. 

I will now conclude, but, before I do so, I 
must not neglect to apprise you that in trans- 
lating the poets of those nations whose lan- 
guages I have recommended for your attain- 
ment, you will encounter some difficulties, es- 
pecially in the figurative expressions, in the bold- 
ness of the turns, in the ellipsis, and particularly in 
the inversions they employ. The works which are 
the least easy to be understood, are those which 
treat of domestic manners, the particular customs 
and usages of countries, and those which paint the 



ANCIENT AND MODERN. 41 

ridiculous in the familiar language of conversa- 
tion, proverbs, colloquialisms, and common saws. 
These are very embarrassing to the learner, and 
the Dictionary does not always furnish a key to 
their explanation. Such are many of the scenes 
in comedy, and some of the productions of the sa- 
tirists, as Quevedo and Gongora, among the Span- 
iards ; Tassoni, among the Italians, and Plautus and 
Persius, among the Latins. Books, too, which treat 
of arts, present difficulties of another sort, from 
their abounding in technical terms ; but they do 
not much obscure the sense of the passage, and 
can easily be understood by the assistance of a 
Dictionary. 

These are the principal difficulties you will 
meet with in the study of the languages I have 
named ; but these are difficulties which will be 
disregarded as trifling and unimportant, I am 
sure, by those who are solicitous to enrich their 
minds, to improve their faculties, to rise above the 
common level of mankind, and to render them- 
selves useful to society within the sphere in which 
their destiny has placed them. 

Adieu. 



D 2 



LETTER II. 



ON A COURSE OF RHETORIC, ORATORY, AND 
POETRY, 



My Dear Son : 

Having paved the way to the temple of 
knowledge, I must desire you to accompany me 
into the vestibule, where you will see the objects 
to which you have now to pay your devotions. 
These, I think, you will find neither of a less 
useful nor less pleasing nature, and will require, 
if not an equal, at least, a considerable por- 
tion of your attention. The " Rhetorician's 
rules," however much they may be assailed by 
wit, or depreciated by ridicule, are nevertheless 
indispensable to the formation of a fine speaker 
and an elegant writer. An art which is acknow- 
ledged, and must be admitted to have this ten- 
dency, is certainly one that deserves to be 
known, and known intimately. It is your wish, 
you say, to become an orator, that you may 
distinguish yourself, if possible, at the bar and 
in the senate of your country ; and if such be, 
indeed, your ambition, the necessity of an ac- 



ORATORY, AND POETRY. 43 

quaintance with the principles of rhetoric and 
oratory, must be apparent. I need only assure 
you, that without some acquaintance with them, 
it will be next to impossible to make a figure, 
either as a writer or a speaker. 

The affinity which exists between these two 
arts is so great, that many of the first rhetoricians 
have declared them to be precisely the same ; but 
I conceive this opinion to be somewhat erroneous. 
I regard rhetoric as the theory, and oratory as the 
art of speaking well ; rhetoric barely contains the 
system, or body of rules, which oratory reduces 
to practice.* These rules or principles which you 
will find in the books I shall hereafter name, must 
be well understood and familiarised to your mind, 
and though they are not of themselves sufficient 
to form an orator, they will, nevertheless, enable 
him, who knows and can apply them, to attain to 
the highest degree of perfection of which the art 
is susceptible \ but few, however, have reached 
this perfection at the bar, in the pulpit, or the sen- 
ate of this country ; because but few have bes- 
towed upon this art that attention which its utility 
and importance demand, and which the ancient 
rhetoricians and orators considered as so essen- 
tial to excellence. 

* Pliny's Letters, Lib. 1. 



44 COURSE OP RHETORIC, 

Rhetoric, or the art of speaking well, very 
properly follows, as a consecutive study, gram- 
mar, or the art of speaking correctly, on which 
I have sufficiently dwelt in mj last. The one 
is the foundation of, and indispensable to, the 
other; it is the humble, but substantial base on 
which rhetoric forms the rich and splendid super- 
structure. " Grammar," says an able writer of our 
own country, u clothes the shadowv tribes of mind 
in the plain substantial attire of a quaker ; rhetor- 
ic arrays them in the glories of princely magnifi- 



Havmg made yourself well acquainted with the 
principles of rhetoric and oratory which you will 
find laid down to the fullest extent in Aristotle,! 
Cicero^Quinctillian^Blair^lCampbeHJWard,** 
Sheridan,tt and Adams ; it will be necessary, in 
order that you may have an opportunity to apply 
them, to exercise yourself frequently in compost- 

* J. Q. Adams' Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory. 

t Aristotle De Rhetor. Lib. 3. 

^Cicero De Oratore. 

§ Quinct. Inst. Orat. 

[j Blair's Lectures. 

T Campbell's Phil of Rhet. 

** Ward's System of Oratory,, 

ft Sheridan on Elocution* 



ORATORY, AND POETRY. 46 

lion. This is the first step in the formation of a 
fine writer and an accomplished and elegant 
speaker : but while I recommend a knowledge of 
the rhetorician's rules, I do not wish to be under- 
stood as desiring you to burthen or overload your 
mind too much with them. An attentive and 
careful study of Blair, Quinctillian, and Cicero, 
will furnish you with all the principles it may be 
essential for you to know ; but as you advance in 
your knowledge of this art, it will be proper to 
examine the authors I have named, to give you a 
more general acquaintance with the subject. As 
an additional aid, you may also join to these, 
Kaim's Elements of Criticism, Gregory's Letters 
on Rhetoric, Alison on Taste, Schlegel's Dramatic 
Lectures, and such other well written works of 
genius on general criticism and Belles Lettres, as 
you can procure. 

When well versed in the theory of rhetoric, 
let it be your constant employment to make a 
practical application of the elements you have 
acquired, by writing and declaiming ; study the 
best models in composition and oratory ; endea- 
vour to imbibe their spirit, to catch their style, 
to reach their excellences. Models are more 
useful than precepts ; the painter first learns to 
handle his pencil, and to mix his colours, but it 



4G COURSE OF RHETORIC, 

is only by studying the finest specimens of his art 
that he arrives at perfection, and attains celebrity. 
Read, and read again, the orations of Demosthe- 
nes and Cicero, observe their peculiarities, imitate 
their excellences, and labour to rival their elo* 
quence. It is impossible that finer, or more ad- 
mirable models can be presented in any art than 
they afford, and an intimate acquaintance with 
them, will go further to make you a distinguished 
orator than all the rules on this subject that can 
be furnished, or that you can acquire : but these 
are not the only models to the study of which I 
would recommend you ; you must unite to the an- 
cients some of the moderns who have excelled in 
eloquence ; you must read with attention and care 
the speeches of Pitt, Fox, Burke, Sheridan, Ers- 
kine, Curran ? * and Grattan, who exhibit some of 



*Curran , s eloquence Is rather too florid for the bar; he must 
be studied with great caution, because his manner is apt to fa- 
scinate the mind, and to corrupt the taste of youth. Currants 
imagination was brilliant and poetical, and often led him to 
paint and embellish, while he ought to have reasoned, and to 
delight the fancy while he ought to have convinced. But Curran. 
was a man of great genius, and would, no doubt, have been as 
great a poet as he was an orator. There is in oratory, as well 
as composition, a simplicity and unity which are extremely beau- 
tiful, and which should always be aimed at by all who wish to 
reach perfection. 

"Denique sit quodvis simplex d'untaxat et unum«" 



ORATORY, AND POETRY. 4T 

the most exquisite specimens of forensic and par- 
liamentary eloquence in modern times. 

To the study of these models, you must join 
the habit of declaiming,* with an oratorical voice 
and gesture. " An exercise," says sir W. Jones, 
"more useful and more ornamental than any 
other." This was a habit which Demosthenes 
frequently practised, and which the best modern 
orators have followed with infinite advantage. — 
It gives to the person a grace and dignity, and 
to the tones of the voice a modulation and com- 
pass, that nothing else can bestow. Demosthe- 
nes regarded delivery or action as the most es- 
sential part of oratory, and bestowed infinite 
labour on its attainment ; but the whole soul of 
Demosthenes was bent on the possession of the 
highest possible excellence in eloquence, and 
that excellence he finally reached, as every one 
else must who admires it as much, and who 
labours in its pursuit as unremittingly and de- 
votedly as he did. The man, indeed, who could 
bury himself in a cave, resist all the allurements 
of pleasure, overcome the defects of nature, and 
copy the works of Thucydides ten times with his 

* Curr an strongly recommends the practice of declaiming pas- 
sages from Shakspeare, as one which he pursued with great ad«« 
vantage. 



48 COURSE OF RHETORIC, 

own hand, to become an orator, was not easily 
to be checked in his career, or diverted from 
his purpose, by ordinary impediments, or com- 
mon difficulties. This is an example I should de- 
light to see you imitate. Believe me, no excel- 
lence can be reached without labour, and labour 
you must submit to, if you wish to be distinguish- 
ed in the literary, scientific, or professional walks 
of life. Oratory requires much and various 
knowledge, " Omnibus disciplinis et artibus debet 
esse insiructus orator." To obtain this, it will 
be my business to mark out the course to be 
followed, and your's to pursue it with unceasing 
assiduity and perseverance. 

In the study of oratory, as well as of composi- 
tion, do not imitate any one model too closely, but 
endeavour to unite the beauties and excellences 
of all, and to form a style of writing and speaking 
perfectly your own. In both, always strive to do 
your best ; cautiously avoid negligence and care- 
lessness in whatever you attempt, and when you 
are obliged to speak or to write, always do it in 
the best possible manner, and in the most correct 
and polished style. This will enable you to form 
& habit of accuracy at first, that it will be difficult 
for you afterwards to lose ; and you will, yourself, 
aften be surprised at the facility, and others as 



ORATORY, AND POETRY. 49 

often at the ease and grace with which you speak 
and compose. Practise frequently — it is by prac- 
tice you will attain perfection : but always re- 
member that to speak or write with eloquence, 
you must first master the subject on which you 
are employed; consider it in all its bearings; 
view it in all its aspects ; examine it in all 
its details, and when you have thus stored your 
mind with ideas, you will find no deficiency 
of expression. The copia verborum cannot but 
be yours, and the 

" Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn," 

will be at your command. Order in speaking 
and writing is a most essential quality, and should 
never be neglected.* It greatly facilitates the 
march of thought, and contributes to the power 
of conviction. The lucidus ordo was enforced 
by the earliest critics. Pliny observes, that, 
" barbarians can express themselves magnificent- 
ly, but to arrange and dispose the parts of a work 
properly, is denied to all but the learned."! This 
should not, however, be too conspicuous ; if it 

* An orator, who does not methodise his discourse, is not ful- 
ly master of his subject; he has but an imperfect taste and a 
low genius. A discourse is perfect, when it has at oncemethod, 
propriety, strength, and vehemence. Feivelon on ELoauYE. 
t Pliny Ep. I. 3. c. 13. 

E 



50 COURSE OP RHETORIC, 

be, the effect will be lost: desinat ars esse si 
apparet ; let your maxim always be ars est celare 
artem. At the commencement of your profes- 
sional career, I think it would be judicious, 
at least till you have acquired sufficient confi- 
dence, to prepare your speeches, or, accord- 
ing to Hume, to compose all your arguments, 
objections, and answers, beforehand; you will 
then find yourself at no loss either for arguments 
or for words, and should you happen to be 
much pressed, you will be always in readiness 
to meet your opponent on equal grounds, and 
to handle your battle-axe, .or to wield your 
lance, as necessity may require. Let your man- 
ner and style be always suited to the subject and 
the occasion, and your oratory adapted to the na- 
ture of the audience you are addressing. Your 
own judgment will point out to you the difference 
between the eloquence suited to the bar, and that 
calculated for a deliberative assembly ; when it is 
necessary to reason, when to address the imagina- 
tion, and when to play upon the passions. Indeed 
good sense must be your guide and instructer in 
all things : it is emphatically the principium et forts 
of fine speaking, as well as of fine writing. " I 
would have an orator" says Archbishop Fenelon, 
than whom there could not be a better judge, 
" naturally a man of good sense, and to reduce all 



ORATORY, AND POETRY. ol 

he says io good sense as the standard of his dis- 
course." Cicero, another authority on this head, 
whose right to instruct will not be denied, or con- 
troverted says, that " Wisdom is the foundation 
of eloquence ; and that eloquence is, indeed, 
nothing more than copious and florid wisdom." 
As it respects delivery, I have only to recom- 
mend the advice of Shakspeare, " Suit the ac- 
tion to the word, the word to the action, with 
this special observance, that you o'erstep not 
the modesty of nature," u and, in the very tor- 
rent, tempest, and whirlwind of passion, you 
must acquire and beget a temperance that may 
give it smoothness," 

Elocution, as a branch of oratory, will re- 
quire much of your attention, because it is one 
of no small importance in the formation of an 
orator. Of the modern writers on this sub- 
ject, the best is Sheridan, and to him may be 
added Abercrombie, of Philadelphia, whose lec- 
tures you may read with great advantage. The 
best models of English prose composition, the 
rules of which it is the end of rhetoric to teach, 
are Swift, Addison, Bolingbroke, Goldsmith, Dr. 
Johnson, Middleton, Hume, Robertson, and Gib- 
bon, who have exhibited in their respective 
productions, all the majesty, vigour, grace, har- 



52 COURSE QFRHETOR1C, 

rnony, polish, and beauty, of which the English 
language is perhaps susceptible. These models 
you must frequently consult while prosecuting, 
and after you have completed, your course of 
studies, to familiarize your mind to their beau- 
ties and peculiarities, and to acquire a style at 
once rich, graceful, energetic, and elegant. But, 
after all, on the Greek and Roman models you 
must bestow the most of your attention. To the 
Romans as well as the Greeks. 

—Ingenium — dedit ore rotundo 



Musa loqui, prater laudem nullius avaris. 

In short, my dear son, the true definition of 
good writing and good speaking is, after all, sim- 
ply to place proper words and proper thoughts in 
their proper places. And, in the language of Fen- 
elon, " To adorn your discourse only with bright 
truths, noble sentiments, and such strong expres- 
sions as are adapted to the subject, and to the 
passions intended to be excited." Always re- 
collect that the true and legitimate end of elo- 
quence is not barely to amuse the ear by the lus- 
ciousness and harmony ofyourperiods, or to charm 
the imagination by the richness and magnificence 
of your pictures, but to enlighten the minds, di- 
rect the judgment, and*suppress the malignant and 
irregular passions of those whom you address— 



ORATORY, AND POETRY. 53 

to defend the innocent — to maintain the laws of 
your country, and to contribute to the virtue and 
the happiness of mankind. In this, as in all re* 
publicks, eloquence is impressed with a high mor- 
al and intellectual character ; it can, if properly 
directed, enable you to wield the destinies of your 
country; to annihilate the spirit of despotism; to 
soften the ferocity of party feeling ; to give tone 
and energy to public sentiment, and, like the 
lightning of heaven, to blast all the machinations 
of the wicked, the designing, and the ambitious. 
It was this that enabled Demosthenes to tear the 
mask from the hirelings of Philip, and stir up the 
Athenians to the defence of their country ; it was 
this that gave Cicero the power he possessed over 
the minds of his countrymen, to denounce and 
call down vengeance on Verres, who had robbed 
the province entrusted to his care, and to expose 
and cover with odium the character of Cataline. 

To give eloquence its full effect, however, a 
high degree of virtue must be its basis.* "He 
preaches sublimely," says Saint Austin, " whose 
life is irreproachable." We listen with more at- 
tention and with greater benefit and pleasure to 
him whom we know to be good, and who, we are 

* Mores primum, moxeloquentiam discat quae male sine mor= 
ibus discitur. Plin. 

E 2 



54 course or rhetoric, 

sure, will not deceive us, than we can possibly 
do to him, however eminent in eloquence and 
learning, who has no moral qualities to recom- 
mend him. Be virtuous, then, as well as en- 
lightened — be greatly good as well as greatly 
learned, if you desire to be eminent as an ora- 
tor, or distinguished as^a man. With a wea- 
pon so powerful, so irresistible, you may be 
either a blessing or a curse to your family and 
your country, and, I am sure, you will not hesi- 
tate which to choose. In the profession you in- 
tend to adopt, the moral qualities of the heart are 
more essential than in any other, and should inva- 
riably form the chief ingredient in the character of 
a lawyer, because much is confided to his care and 
management, and because, from the nature of 
things, great confidence must necessarily be repo- 
sed in his integrity and wisdom. 

You will, perhaps, be a little surprised when I 
recommend, as an important auxiliary to ora- 
tory, the study of poetry ; but it is nevertheless 
correct, and you will soon perceive their har- 
monious and delightful connexion. They are, 
indeed, sister arts, muses that sport near the same 
fountain, and that sometimes bestow their fa- 
vours alike on such as court the caresses of either. 
One of the most distinguished parliamentary ora- 



ORATORY, AND POETRY. 55 

tors of his age* has said, with much truth, "that 
the study of good authors, and especially poets, 
ought never to he intermitted by any man who is 
to speak or write for the public, or, indeed, who 
has any occasion to tax his imagination, whether it 
be for argument, for illustration, for ornament, for 
sentiment, or any other purpose." The read- 
ing of poetry enriches the imagination — liberal- 
izes the feeling, and recreates the mind; it supplies 
the speaker with fine images, happy illustrations, 
and beautiful turns of thought and expression; 
it fills up the vacuum of a leisure hour agreeably 
and usefully, and, by infusing the spirit and fire of 
poesy, makes his eloquence mora impressive, cap- 
tivating, and ornamental. " The greatest orators," 
says Pliny, " have not only made poetry their de- 
light, but one of their most laudible pursuits." 
" La poesia^ says Cervantes, " a mi paracer, es 
eomo una doncella tierna, y depoca edad, y en todo 
extremo hermosa, aquien tienen cuidado de enriquec- 
eur, pulir 8/ adorna otras muchas doncellas, que son 
todos las otras cientias y ella ha de y ella ha de 
servir de> todas y todas se han de autorizar conella^ 

In short, my dear son, the testimonies in favour 
of this divine art, as a recreation to the mind and 
an aid to oratory, are almost innumerable. In the 

* C.J. Fox. 



56 COURSE OF BHETORIC, 

study of the dead and foreign living languages, 1 
have suggested to you the necessity of committing 
to memory the best and finest passages of the po- 
ets, and, I trust, you will not neglect this admoni- 
tion, nor omit to pursue the same plan, in relation 
to the poets, in your own language. Exclusive 
of its general utility, it will be found a source of 
much gratification, in moments of langour and so- 
litude, on the bed of sickness, or even of death, 
to recal the fine poetical pictures of imagination, 
and the exquisite, pathetic and beautiful touches of 
the poet on which you have once dwelt with rap- 
ture and delight. The heart, thus engaged, feels 
purified and mellowed, and the mind harmonises 
and becomes tinged with the peculiar cast of sen- 
timent and feeling, the poetry by which it is oc- 
cupied, is calculated to produce. Let it then be 
one of your principal amusements, to read the 
best poets in every language with which you are 
acquainted, till they have become perfectly fami- 
liar to you. But on those, in your own tongue, 
you will of course take greater delight to dwell, 
because from them you will, perhaps, derive a 
higher degree of pleasure. Of the Greek poets, 
to read often, I would select Homer, Theocritus, 
Anacreon, Pindar, Euripides and Sophocles ; of 
the Latin, Virgil, Horace, Juvenal, and Ovid ; of 
the French, the most useful foreign language, 



ORATORY, AND POETRY. 57 

Corneiile, Racine, Voltaire, Rousseau and Delille; 
of the Italian, Ariosto, Tasso, Dante, Petrarch, and 
Alfieri ; of the Spanish, Lopez de la Vega, Ere- 
cilla, and Calderon; of the German, Klopstock, 
Schiller and Goethe ; and of the English, Spencer, 
Shakspeare, Milton, Pope, Dryden, Thompson, 
Goldsmith, Gray, Akenside, Cowper, and Camp- 
bell. These should be read frequently and with 
great attention. You will soon appreciate their 
merits, and relish their beauties ; they will refine 
your taste and exalt your imagination. The other 
poets may be read, if you please, but these should 
be studied, in as much as they contain the pith and 
essence of the poetry, in the various languages in 
which they have written. Of the English poets 
you perhaps cannot read too often or examine too 
critically, the works of Shakspeare, Milton, Pope 
and Thompson, because from these you will de- 
rive a full knowledge of the energy and copious- 
ness of your vernacular language, of the richness 
and harmony of its versification, and of the com- 
pass—variation — power and beauty of which it is 
susceptible. The admirable strokes of nature, 
every where abounding in Shakspeare, " fancy's 
airy child;" the grandeur and sublimity of thought 
and expression of Milton; the harmony, conden- 
sation, scrupulous accuracy and fine moral senti- 
ment of Pope ; and the minute and exquisite pen- 



58 COURSE OF RHETORIC, &C. 

cilling, the rich and beautiful colouring of Thomp- 
son, cannot but furnish the mind with the finest 
sources of delicate and durable pleasure. Let 
the best poets, then, I beseech you, meet with 
a due share of your attention at all times 5 and 
amidst your abstruser studies, and more ardu- 
ous employments, let them be your occasional 
companions and friends. 

Adieu. 



LETTER III. 



0N A COURSE OF LOGIC AND MATHEMATICS, 



My Pear Son : 

To the art of speaking well, may, with 
great propriety, succeed the art of reasoning well : 
the one is, indeed, of very little use without the 
other, because the essence of eloquence is per- 
suasion, and to persuade without reasoning, is 
almost impossible. On this art, as on that of 
rhetoric, much ridicule has been occasionally 
cast; but, I think, very undeservedly, notwith- 
standing the extremes to which it was carried in 
the middle ages. In its nature, objects, and ex- 
tent, it is one, indeed, of no inconsiderable im- 
portance ; for that surely cannot be unimportant, 
which is connected with the philosophy of the 
human intellect, and the nature and construction 
of human language ; which points out the process 
pursued by the mind in arriving at truth, and 
which tends to guide and direct it in that pursuit. 
A competent mastery, therefore, of logic, and the 
mathematical sciences, will be of essential utility 
to you ; not only in your future historical research- 



60 COURSE OP LOGIC, 

es, but in almost every transaction of life, both 
private and professional, in which you may be 
engaged. The love of truth is inherent in the 
nature, and coeval with the organization, of man : 
he pursues it as he pursues an object dear to his 
affections. — Light is always preferable to dark- 
ness, and truth is always more desirable than 
error ; because error is not, and cannot be, con- 
genial to his nature, 

Rien n'est beau qui le vrai, le vrai seul est aimable. Boileau. 

Reason has been bestowed on us to regulate 
our conduct — to sway and influence our mo- 
tives — to direct us through the mazes of decep- 
tion and error, and to control and govern the in- 
temperate ebullitions of passion. It is the richest 
blessing the Deity could confer on man, in this 
state of probationary trial, as it tends to produce 
and to augment his happiness, and to elevate him 
in the scale of human existence. The improve- 
ment and exercise of this faculty, are at once our 
duty and our privilege, and the more it is enlight- 
ened and improved, the more it approximates the 
great living fountain from which it emanated, and 
by which it exists. To facilitate this improve- 
ment, logic, as an art, has been introduced ; but 
logic, as an art, is the result, not the origin, of 
that process of the mind which leads to the dis- 



AND MATHEMATICS. 61 

covery of truth. The first employment of man. 
in the infancy of life, is to acquire ideas and 
their names ; he combines, compares, and ana- 
lyzes, before he is aware of the existence of such 
an art, and reaches the truth, by a process of 
which he is conscious, although he is, perhaps, 
ignorant of its name. Every man who possesses 
a sound mind is, in a greater or less degree, a 
logician. He analyzes, compares, and deduces, 
without any acquaintance with the dialectics of 
the schools ; because, to analyze, compare, and 
deduce, is a necessary, if not an voluntary, opera- 
tion of the mind. Logic, like grammar, is not 
the origin, but the result, of something which has 
preceded it, and which has been formed into a 
system, by a close and habitual attention to the 
process which the mind adopts, while in the act 
of reasoning. Of this system, you can acquire 
a very competent knowledge from Watts or Dun- 
can ;* but that alone, though certainly very use- 
ful, is not sufficient to make you a practical and 
able logician — you must go further; you must 
habituate your mind to close and accurate ana- 
lysis, on every occasion, when a doubtful pro- 
position is submitted ; and always, when pro- 
per, to pursue that mode of raciocination, which 

* Watts and Duncan's Logic. 



62 COURSE OF LOGIC 

leads from the known to the unknown ; for 

" What can we reason, but from what we know?" 

I think analysis the most natural, and decided- 
ly the most preferable mode of investigation : as 
it renders our knowledge more accurate, and our 
minds more correct. Nor, indeed, can it do other- 
wise ; for every object that presents itself is de- 
composed, and all its parts, or original principles, 
separately and distinctly marked, investigated, 
and understood, before they are again put toge- 
ther, and the truth of the whole admitted. But 
though I conceive this to be the most natural 
and the most correct and useful mode of reason- 
ing, I do not wish to be understood as excluding 
what is termed the method of composition or 
synthesis. B >th have their advocates and follow- 
ers, and both are conceded to have their advan- 
tages. Most mathematicians, however, prefer 
the synthetical process, as more short and sim- 
ple, though they are often constrained to employ 
the analytical.* You may adopt which you 
please, because I know the result will be the same ; 
but I should choose the method of decomposi- 
tion or analysis, as one better calculated for the 
investigation of almost every kind of subject. — 

* Euler and Lagrange are Analysists of the first rank, whom 
you may consult. 



AND MATHEMATICS. 63 

To the writers of logic I have mentioned above, 
you must add, Collard's Essentials and Praxis of 
Logic, Locke on the Understanding, Condorcet's 
Logic, and, finally, Aristotle, the creator and 
founder of dialectics. An acquaintance with 
these writers, and a habit of accurate reasoning, 
according to the established rules and principles 
of logic, laid down by them, will be of great and 
obvious utility to you, in all your intellectual pur- 
suits, and in almost all the business of life. It 
will enable you to detect sophistry, to expose er- 
ror, to arrive at truth, and to think with precision 
and accuracy. 

The transition from logic to the mathematical 
sciences,* especially trigonometry and geometry, 
is very easy; because geometry and trigonometry 
constitute, in themselves, an admirable system of 
practical logic, and form the mind to close and 
accurate thinking. In the one, nothing is admit- 
ted without demonstration, and the mind is never 

* The study of mathematics often succeeds that of the lan- 
guages; but, I think, the arrangement I have adopted, the best, 
as the study of rhetoric and logic will better prepare the mind 
for the reception of the mathematical sciences, particularly 
mixed mathematics, and render them more easily understood. 
Arithmetic and the elements of geometry may be learned, if the 
student pleases, before he commences his rhetorical and logi- 
cal studies. 



64 GOURSE OF LOGIC 

satisfied without truth. In both, the synthetic and 
analytical method of reasoning is pursued ; in 
"both you are led on from truth to truth, from pro- 
position to proposition, from the most simple to 
the most complete ideas : the whole attention be- 
comes riveted, and every faculty is banished but 
memory and judgment.* The excellence of this 
science, setting aside its other obvious advantages, 
as a system of practical logic, as a system by which 
the mind is disciplined, invigorated, and trained to 
the most perfect accuracy and precision, must 
be admitted, notwithstanding the objections that 
have been urged against it on this head. The 
mathematics have been, with great propriety, de- 
nominated exact ; because nothing but what is 
susceptible of rigorous demonstration is received : 
the imagination has no opportunity to sport ; the 
mind has no room to doubt ; all is perspicuity ; — - 
truth is the object of pursuit, and truth, at last, 
stands unveiled in all the fascination and splen- 
dour of native loveliness, without decoration 
and without ornament. 

The very language of this science, Algebra, is 
as distinguished for its simplicity, as the science 

*It would be proper to connect the reading of poetry witn 
the study of mathematics, so that the imagination might be im- 
proved simultaneously with the memory and judgment. 



AND MATHEMATICS. 65 

itself, which it is employed to unfold and illus- 
trate. Every thing about it is trimmed down to 
the greatest exactness — reduced to the most strik- 
ing obviousness and utility. There are no use- 
less adjuncts, no superfluous flourishes of argu- 
ment or of fancy ; all about it is plain, precise, and 
necessary. 

But to the mathematical sciences, men are 
apt to become too much attached, and to de- 
vote, perhaps, too great a share of their time. 
I wish to caution you against this fascination. 
The pleasure of discovering truth, of withdraw- 
ing the drapery which at first conceals her 
charms, is sometimes so alluring, that no difficul- 
ty, however great, can check our inclination, or 
retard our pursuit. It becomes interwoven with 
our feelings by habit, and, instead of an oc- 
casional study or amusement, often forms the 
whole business of life. I warn you against this 
indulgence in time, lest you should be induced to 
neglect other studies, perhaps more necessary, to 
prepare you for the sphere in which it is your de- 
sire to revolve. 

It has been recommended by a French wri- 
ter,* and the recommendation should not be ne= 

* Deleuze. 
F 2 



66 COURSE OP LOGIC 

glected, that, in order to abridge the study of 
mathematics^ this science ought to be regarded, 
by those who pursue it not as a profession, as 
an instrument merely; that they should not la- 
bour to make new discoveries, or invent new 
methods ; and that they should limit themselves 
to the knowledge of that which is known, and ne- 
glect what is only curious in its higher branches., 

Though there is much good sense in this ad- 
vice, I would not have you to be satisfied with a 
superficial knowledge of the science, or a slight 
acquaintance with its elementary principles : you 
must endeavour to advance still further ; to make 
yourself acquainted with both pure and mixed 
mathematics, and the higher branches of analysis, 
the easy use and application of trigonometrical 
and algebraic formulae ; the chain of geometrical 
propositions, and the spirit and process of mathe- 
matical investigation and philosophy. With such 
a knowledge of these sciences, it will be impossi- 
ble either to forget them, or to avoid experiencing 
their advantage in your subsequent studies and 
professional pursuits. Under the direction of an 
able preceptor, your progress will, I doubt not, 
be rapid, and your improvement sensibly and im- 
mediately felt 



AND MATHEMATICS. 67 

Of the moderns, the best writers on geometry 
are the English, and the French the best on tri- 
gonometry, of which I should wish you to make 
yourself a competent master; because, as Wood- 
house* very justly observes, "every part of mix- 
ed mathematics has been enriched by its formulas ; 
and, since the time of Newton, all enquiries into 
physical astronomy have been conducted by means 
of its language." 

The mathematical sciences, besides their pow- 
er of fixing the attention, and regulating and 
disciplining the mind, you will findof extensive 
and varied utility.! They constitute the basis of 
most of those arts and sciences that add to the 
comfort of life, and contribute to the enlargement 
and expansion of the human intellect. They 
w r ill enable you, more easily, to understand natu- 
ral philosophy, civil and natural history, chronolo- 
gy, political economy, the arts, &c. ; because 
with these different branches of knowledge, they 
have a close and intimate connexion, and mingle 
and embody themselves with them. The best 
and most general course of mathematics, is that 

* Woodhouse on Plane and Spherical Trigonometr}'-. 

t It has been said by Charles XII. of Sweden, that he who 
is ignorant of arithmetic, is but half a man. 



68 COURSE OF LOGIC 

laid down by Hutton.* It embraces all that is 
necessary to be known, (stopping at spherical 
trigonometry in the 2d vol.) by those who 
do not mean to devote their exclusive attention 
to the science ; but if you design to enter more 
deeply and extensively into its principles and 
branches, you will find a sufficient number of 
able and learned writers of almost every modern 
nation, to give you all the instruction you need 
desire. And while you are acquiring the princi- 
ples, I need scarcely point out to you the neces- 
sity of making yourself acquainted with the his- 
tory of the science from its first rude origin, to its 
present high and brilliant state of improvement. 
This you can- obtain from Playfair, or Bossuet a 
French mathematician, of great and merited emi- 
nence, who has very lucidly related its gradual 
progress and improvements in the different ages 

* Perhaps the following course of mathematical studies would 
suit those better who intend to piactice the law, or any of the 
learned professions, viz : 1st. Pine Mathematics, Arithmetic, 
Analysis, or Algebra, Playfair's Elements of Geometry, or 
Simpson's Euclid, six first books, conic-sections, Plane and 
Spherical Trigonometry, by Woodhouse, Surveying and Mensu- 
ration. 2nd. Mixed, or Physico Mathematics, viz: Mechanics, 
Hydrodynamies, Astronomy, Geography, and Acoustics. Of 
the first division, the most important and useful branches are 
Surveying and Mensuration ; of the latter, those of Practical 
and Physical Astronomy and Geography. 



AND MATHEMATICS, 69 

and nations of the world, where it has been cul- 
tivated. 

The acquisition of logic and the mathematical 
sciences will not, I think, engage you more than 
two years, and I am sure you will agree with me 
in saying, when you have completed these studies, 
that no equal portion of time could have been 
more advantageously, and perhaps more agreea- 
bly employed. You see that 1 am brief, but I 
wish to be so in all my communications. I can- 
not pause, nor is it necessary to dwell, on the 
merits of each particular writer I may recom- 
mend, nor enlarge on the usefulness of every 
branch of knowledge I may wish you to acquire. 
The author's name, the nature of the science, and 
the order in which it is to be studied, will be all 
that I can give, and, I think, all that will be ne- 
cessary for your direction. 

Adieu. 



LETTER IV. 



ON NATURAL PHILOSOPHY 
My Dear Son: 

I mentioned in the preceding letter that a 
knowledge of the mathematics, particularly phy- 
sico-mathematics, was essential to a proper un* 
derstanding of physiology, or natural philosophy. 
Indeed there is but little difference between them, 
except that the latter embraces a wider range and 
a more extended field of inquiry into the arcana 
and operations of nature. As the connexion, there- 
fore, is so intimate, and the importance of the sci- 
ence so great, you will not experience much 
difficulty, and I am sure you can have no particu- 
lar aversion, to dipping into a branch of knowledge 
so replete with interest and utility. The utility 
of philosophy you will be enabled correctly to 
appreciate, when you enter upon your subsequent 
studies, and have commenced your course of his- 
torical reading ; from the knowledge you will have 
of the cause of most things you see around you, 
and the light and aid it will afford you, in separ- 
ating the true from the false, the marvellous from 
the probable, so frequently blended by those his- 



NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 71 

torians who are ignorant of the laws of nature : 
for, 

" Nature well known, no prodigies remain." 

"Philosophy, the mother of all good arts," says 
Cicero, " is in truth the gift and invention of the 
gods."* It comprehends, in its largest import, 
the knowledge of whatever belongs to nature, and 
the causes, effects and properties of all created 
beings. A field of science, so wide and diversi- 
fied as this, cannot but be eminently useful and 
deeply interesting to all who wish to soar above 
the ignorance of savage life, and to have a more 
comprehensive view of the stupendous and match- 
less wisdom of that being who wields the des- 
tinies of the universe. "The knowledge of na- 
ture," says Plutarch, " frees us from a supersti- 
tion full of terrors, and fills us with a true devo- 
tion, accompanied with a hope of good."t 

As judicious an arrangement of this science as 
any I have seen, though a little antiquated, is that 
given by Martin in his Philosophical Grammar — 
an arrangement which includes the whole scope 
of physical knowledge, and goes beyond the 
limits, usually assigned to it by writers on na 
tuial philosophy. He has divided physiology 

* Cicero Tusc. 1. 
t Plut. Pericles. 



T2 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 

into four parts, viz : 1st. Somatology, which 
treats of the universal nature and properties 
of matter ; 2nd. Cosmology, or astronomy, which 
exhibits a general view of the universe ; 3rd. 
Aerology, which comprises the philosophy of the 
atmosphere and its phenomena ; and, 4th, Geolo- 
gy, which contains a philosophical view of the 
earth and its animals, minerals, vegetable produc- 
tions, &c. With these three first divisions, you 
will find no difficulty in making yourself ac- 
quainted, because you are already, from your 
prior studies, in no small degree, conversant with 
them ; but the fourth, and last branch, on the 
subdivisions of which I shall hereafter dwell 
more at large, will demand more of your time 
and labour ; and will, I am certain, excite as 
much interest, and afford as much pleasure, as 
either of the preceding. 

On natural philosophy, a great deal has been 
written, and many improvements have been made 
in it, but as you have not much time to spare, a 
careful study of the best systems will be amply 
sufficient for your purpose. Of these, I think 
those of Cavallo, Adams, Nicholson, and Playfair,* 

* Cavallo's Natural and Experimental Philosophy, Adams' 
Elements of Natural Philosophy, Nicholson's Introduction, 
Playfair's Natural Philosophy. 



NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 73 

or either of them, will be all that you need study : 
especially since you have acquired the philosophy 
of the inimitable Newton, and penetrated the cir- 
cle of physico-mathematics. 

In examining and investigating the various 
theories of the earth which have been publish- 
ed from time to time, by men often rather too 
visionary and speculative for the character of 
philosophers, if you should ever have leisure, 
you would perhaps derive neither amusement 
nor edification. Their theories are often in- 
deed plausible and ingenious, but ingenuity and 
plausibility, in matters of mere speculation, may 
amuse, but cannot greatly instruct. Cuvier's* is 
decidedly the best and most rational, and perhaps 
the only one you need put yourself to any trou- 
ble to examine ; but with the principles of ge« 
ology, in the general sense of the word, you must 
nevertheless, endeavour to make yourself well 
acquainted ; for, it is by this knowledge, united to 
that of astronomy, that we can properly under- 
stand the means employed by nature in the for- 
mation of the globe. t 

* Buffon's, Burnett's, Hutton's, and Werner's Theories, may 
also be read as matter of curiosity. 

f The following are the best works in geology, viz : Brande 
Faujas, and St. Fond. 

G 



74 NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 

This branch of natural philosophy, necessarily 
embraces the elements of physical geography and 
natural history : of the subdivisions of the latter, I 
shall hereafter speak ; but to the elements of the 
former, or geography, I must now call your at- 
tention, with a view to impress upon your mind 
the absolute necessity of acquiring a correct 
knowledge of them. To this end, you will see 
the importance of physical astronomy which 
you will study, in Ferguson, Laland, and La- 
place.* Indeed the one cannot be properly un- 
derstood without the other. Astronomy, says 
Delauze, is "The foundation of geography — 
the guide of chronology — the light of history — 
it serves not only to determine the possession 
of places, and to fix dates, but to rectify the 
relations of historians, and to discover the cau- 
ses of their prejudices." 

* It is astonishing, says M. Prony, how great is the number of 
questions which^astronomy alone can resolve and illustrate, and 
which are connected with the usages and wants of society — La 
fination et la classement des epoques de tons les ages ; le calendrier, 
la mesure el la description du globe terrestre ; la perfection et la 
surele de la navigation, la connaissance des causes de la differ- 
entes influences, &lc. Voila une partie de ses bien fails dans ses 
grandes et nombreuse applications qui semblent etablir une com- 
munication immediate entre le ciel et la terre ; pour le bonheur 
dds hommesP 



NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 75 

I have called your attention to geography, 
at this time, because it is one of those prelimi- 
nary branches of knowledge, which you ought 
to possess in all its details, and which is almost 
indispensable to the understanding and acqui- 
sition of civil and natural history. To facili- 
tate your labour, I would recommend the fol- 
lowing, as the easiest and most effectual mode 
of acquiring this science. Begin by copying 
maps and charts, and marking the positions of 
the principal mountains, lakes, rivers, and ci- 
ties, in the different nations or states of the 
world— always taking care to separate physical 
from political — ancient from modern, geography, 
By this plan you will soon know, thoroughly, the 
latitude, longitude, climate, and relative position 
of the different countries and places on the earth ; 
and when you have made some progress in draw- 
ing, to which I shall call your attention in my next, 
you will find this practice of copying rather an 
amusement than a toil. After you have entered 
upon your historical course, you will be enabled 
to understand the cause of the solicitude I evince 
in thus earnestly recommending this science to 
your notice, from the facility it will afford, and the 
trouble and time it will save you, in the prosecu= 
tion of your historical studies* 

Adieu. 



LETTER V. 



ON DRAWING, PAINTING, ARCHITECTURE, ANI) 
MUSIC, 



My Dear Son. 

I will now proceed to point out to you what 
I conceive to be a necessary sequel to your math- 
ematical and physiological researches, and what, 
I doubt not, you will deem a relaxation from the 
labour of mind you have hitherto found it requi- 
site to emyloy. The art of drawing is connect- 
ed with mathematics, and highly useful in geo- 
graphy, natural history, and the arts. It will en- 
able you, with great ease to sketch a plan, an an- 
imal, a plant, the face of a country, and the lines 
of a landscape ; and thus to convey a more accu- 
rate and definite idea of these objects than any you 
could communicate by mere verbal description. 
When you have acquired the ability, the habit of 
sketching and copying maps will make you bet- 
ter and sooner acquainted with physical geogra- 
phy than any other plan you can adopt ; because 
it will thus become an object of sense, and, by 
tracing, for some time, the outlines of countries 3 



ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 77 

and delineating the principal places of the world, 
such as rivers, mountains, cities, &c. and noting 
their latitude and longitude, it will be so strong- 
ly imprinted on the memory, that no time will be 
able to efface the impression. The knowledge of 
drawing requires a partial acquaintance, at least, 
with anatomy,* perspective, and the theory of 
proportions. These you may attain in a short 
time ; because your previous studies have given 
you some knowledge of the two latter, and, with 
the former, you may soon be acquainted. Un- 
der a good instructer, drawing will be neither a 
tedious nor an arduous employment. And 
when you have attained some facility in it, you 
will soon experience, in addition to the other ad- 
vantages I have glanced at, its power in giving 
steadiness to the hand and correctness to the eye, 
and in heightening your relish for what is beautiful 
and exquisite, both in art ar,d nature. In the art 
of drawing you will perceive the utility and ap- 
plication of your mathematical studies, especial- 
ly that of optics and perspective, not only in the 

* " A general knowledge of the interior of the human body, 
says M. A. Jullien, no man ought to be a stranger to— Anato- 
my will, at once, reveal to him the immensity of that power who 
has created every thing, and the fragility of that feeble creature 
who appears to be called to crawl and to reign upon the earth.-' 
Read Bichat's Anatomy, and Blumenbach's Comparative 
Anatomy. 

G 2 



78 DRAWING, PAINTING, 

formation of various lines and figures, but in the 
system of analysis it has taught you. "Un bon des- 
einateur," says M. Lancelin, " est, son genre, un 
excellent analyste."* Because in this, as in them, 
you proceed from the more simple to the more 
complex, from objects the most easy, to those the 
most difficult; and, while thus employed, your 
hand acquires an ease and steadiness of motion, 
and your eye a quickness and accuracy of vision 
that will be of no small service to you, even in 
common life.t When you have acquired the art 
of drawing with sufficient precision and delicacj r , 

* Introduction a P Analyse des Sciences. 

t Drawing, says Lancelin, above quoted, who has passed a 
very high encomium upon this art, traces not only the image of 
all that exists, but also of all that may exist — it is at once the 
language of nature, of intelligence, and of imagination. The 
importance of drawing or design, in my eyes, is such, that it ap- 
pears to me one might confine the education of early youth 
to the acquisition of this accomplishment, which I regard as an 
introduction necessary to all conditions, besides its being, to all 
ages of life, a very extended and fruitful source of amusement 
and pleasure — an object of relaxation — a charming occupation 
and one of the fundamental articles of all good education, pub- 
lic or private. Government, anxious to multiply and extend the 
powers of the human mind, as well as the elements of good taste, 
could n a do better than to increase public schools for drawing^ 
in order to furnish to their citizens the means of instruction in 
an art which is obviously one of the most beautiful and the most 
certain instruments of our knowledge. 



ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 79 

and have, thus habituated yourself to the imita- 
tion of nature in her genera! outlines, you may 
proceed to follow her, in her more minute and va- 
ried beauties, and to give life, expression, and co- 
lour, to what you have been previously learning 
merely to delineate. The union between draw- 
ing and painting is so very intimate, that the one 
cannot be known without a desire to possess the 
other. They are denominated, with truth, sis- 
ter arts, for both are alike imitative, and both 
nearly of the same remote antiquity. 

" The painter, says Ammonius, may design the 
outlines and proportions of a man, but it is by co- 
louring that he brings it to represent a Socrates, 
or a Plato." The effect of colouring in nature is 
felt by every animated being ; it gives delight to 
the eye, and beauty to the countenance. Nature, 
the prototype of the painter, always touches the 
productions of her pencil with the richest, most 
delicate, and lovely tints, and dashes over the un- 
dulating and graceful outlines she sketches, the 
magic splendour and radiant beauty of her hues. 
The art of painting is intended to imitate nature, 
in all her charms, and for this purpose, it employs 
the colours she uses, and the lines and figures in 
which she delights. Painting, my dear son, is not 
less useful than drawing, and, certainly, not less 



80 DRAWING, PAINTING, 

amusing and agreeable. It is an accomplishment 
that has been admired in all ages, and will con- 
tinue to be admired, as long as the mind is sus- 
ceptible of pleasure from what is excellent in art, 
or beautiful in nature. It will enable you to con- 
vey a correct idea of what you have seen and 
what you cannot otherwise describe : " it pours 
ideas into our minds ; words only drop them." 
It is a universal language which is understood by 
every one, and with which every one is charmed 
and delighted. In common life, it is useful by 
enabling us to preserve the likenesses of our rela- 
tions and friends : in the sciences, by furnishing 
us with the figures, colours, and shapes of animals, 
plants, minerals, and other objects or phenomena 
of nature ; and by supplying the architect with 
models, and the surgeon and physcian with the 
fine forms and delicate texture of the human 
body. In short there is scarcely any trade, or pro- 
fession in society, to which it does not yield some 
advantage and improvement. 

You will see, as you advance, that, of this art, 
the prominent feature is colouring ; though that 
feature is merely mechanical, and not of very dif- 
ficult acquirement : but it is by colouring that this 
is distinguished from the other imitative arts with 
which it has, in common, composition, imitation. 



ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 81 

design, and expression ; but colouring constitutes 
its principal and richest ornament, and is, indeed, 
the soul of beauty.* Of colouring, the leading 
objects are, truth, force, keeping, and harmony ; 
the fine effects of which you may immediately 
perceive in any masterly production of the pen- 
cil ; yet to give these their highest degree of ex- 
cellence, you must make yourself acquainted with 
the clear obscure, (chiaro-scuro,) or just conduct 
and proper arrangement of light and shade. — ■ 
Without this, you may daub, but will never paint. 
It is a principle, both in drawing and painting, of 
the greatest utility and importance, and is cor- 
rectly appreciated by every artist who aspires at 
excellence in his profession. " The contour of the 
illumined part," says a Greek writer,! " should 
be blended with, and lost, in the shade, for on 
this, joined to the advantage of colouring, depend 
animation, tenderness, and the similitude of 

* Should the most able master in design, attempt to represent 
by that alone, a rose or grape, we should have but a faint and 
imperfect image ; let him add to each its proper colours, we no 
longer doubt ; we smell the rose — we touch the grape ; hence 
the poet — 

So glow'd the grape, so perfect the deceit, 
My hand reached forward, ere I found the cheat. 

Webb on Painting, 

t Theages, Pathagoricus apud Stobacum. 



82 DRAWING, PAINTING, 

truth. 55 As imitation, however, forms the great 
principle of this art, you must always go prepar- 
ed with your port-folio and crayons, to record 
every striking and beautiful object in nature, and 
every new fold of drapery, or graceful attitude of 
body, you meet with, that you may know how to 
combine and unite and form a posture, at once 
striking, splendid, and natural. 

But while I thus recommend to you a know- 
ledge of this art, I must not be understood as 
wishing you to become a professioned artist, or 
to get so much attached to it, as to relinquish, as 
many have done, every other pursuit in its fa- 
vour. I never desire to hear you say " E son 
pittore anchio,"—-!, also, am a painter. It will 
be sufficient that you know how to draw and 
colour with ease and taste, such objects in na- 
ture and art, as may strike your mind, by their 
grace, their novelty, or their beauty. Beyond 
this, it will be improper to advance, and short of 
it you must not stop. 

We will now proceed to architecture and mu- 
sic, of which you may, or may not, as you please, 
acquire some theoretical and practical know- 
ledge. With the principles of the former, you 
can obtain, in a short time, a very competent ac- 



ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. • 83 

quaintance, and this will be rendered the more 
easy, from your previous knowledge of geometry, 
perspective, and design. On this subject 1 need 
only recommend to you the works of Vitruvius, 
Palladio, and a late treatise on perspective by 
Brown; and by familiarising yourself with the 
various proportions and the different orders and 
styles of architecture, you will soon know as 
much of this art as it may be necessary for you 
to possess. 

Architecture, like drawing, is said to be one of 
the imitative, as well as fine arts ; and contains, 
in itself, most of the elements of sublimity and 
beauty. Its origin was rude, and its highest pos- 
sible excellence, has not, I think, yet been attain- 
ed. In the soft and voluptuous climate of Greece, 
where imagination sprang into vigor, and genius 
nurtured to maturity, by the delicious air which 
its inhabitants breathed, and the beauties of na- 
ture by which they were surrounded, architec- 
ture was finally brought to its present state of 
perfection. The Norman, Saxon, and Saracen, or 
Gothic style, has, indeeed, been ingrafted upon 
that of the Greeks, but, though it may add to 
the variety of the art, and perhaps to its useful- 
ness, it falls far short of that exquisite taste 
and refinement which the Greek style displays. 



84 DRAWING, PAINTING, 

The beauty of the different orders, the nice 
and harmonious proportions and exquisite effect 
of that style, has never been rivalled, though 
I still hope they may yet be surpassed. The 
Greek style of architecture is evidently well cal- 
culated for such a climate as that of Greece, but 
I cannot see why it may not be so improved and 
modified, as to be better suited to colder and 
more intemperate latitudes. 

The style of building should be adapted to the 
situation in which it is placed, that congruity may 
be preserved, and the harmony and contrast re- 
main uninjured. There is an adaption in all 
things, and I think, with St. Pierre,* that a style 
might be introduced into the north, better suited 
to the climate, and equally susceptible of beauty, 
grandeur, and effect. The trunk of the pine, for 
example, might serve as a standard of proportion 
for the shafts of the column, and the ornaments 
of these shafts, be the imitations of the natural and 
staple productions of northern latitudes, such as 
com, cotton, tobacco, hemp, &c. If the Egyp- 
tians could take the pine as a model in the con- 
struction of their pyramids and obelisks, and the 
Chinese, in their rich paviliions, and even consid- 
er it as the symbol of immortality, I see no objec- 

* Harmonies of Nature, 



ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 86 

tion to the imitation of it, in its native country, 
nor why the pyramidal or conical should not be 
substituted in the place of the Greek cylindrical 
order. As to the disposition of the columns, they 
might be grouped in conical rotundos, instead of 
long peristyles, in the order in which the seeds of 
the pine are arranged in their cones. " With this 
view," says St. Pierre, " I would give a progres- 
sive elevation to the columns in the middle of the 
rotundo, so as to increase the extent of the per- 
spective, the outside column being shorter and of 
less diameter. If the peristyle be favourable to 
coolness in a warm climate, by affording a free 
circulation of air, the conical rotundo is equally 
favourable to warmth in a cold climate, by con- 
tracting it within, and by stopping the course 
of the wind on the outside. The interor and ex- 
terior of its vault might represent the scales, and 
the oval form which are found so pleasant in the 
pine cone." This, and the Greek order, how- 
ever, might, by the exertion of a little genius, be 
so united as to suit every latitude of the United 
States ; and, thus, form a national style of archi- 
tecture, better adapted to the climate than the 
Greek alone, and equally well calculated for the 
purposes of beauty and magnificence. But I wan- 
der. 

H 



8G DRAWING, PAINTING, 

You will find when you have obtained a know- 
ledge of this art, (in which I mean to include 
military and naval architecture,) that the plea- 
sure, as well as the advantage it affords, is not so 
inconsiderable as you may suppose. The eye 
becomes accustomed, it is true, to regularity, uni- 
formity, and harmony of proportion ; but we are 
so organized as to receive as much delight from 
the perception of these, as from the richest vari- 
ety in nature, and, I am inclined to believe, that 
their habitual contemplation affords no little aid 
in the formation of a well-ordered and well-regu- 
lated mind. The harmony of proportion is as 
agreeable to the eye, as the harmony of sounds 
is to the ear.* 

If architecture be not a source of immediate 
advantage, it will at least be one of no small gra- 
tification ; and, as this branch of the fine arts is 
much admired and cultivated in the United States, 
it would, I think, be unpardonable to be wholly 
ignorant of its practical or theoretical principles ; 
especially, when these principles can be attained 
at so small an expense of time and labour. 

Of music, it is not necessary to say much.— = 

* Harmony, says Plato, has the same effect upon the mind 
that exercise has upon the body. 



ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 87 

Your taste for this art will be regulated by your 
ear, and your love of " the concord of sweet 
sounds." It has been asserted by the great bard 
of nature, that 

" He who has not music in himself, 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; 
The motions of his spirits are dull as night, 
And his affections dark as Erebus." 

It is, indeed, rare to meet, in the whole circle 
of human life, with an individual whose organiza- 
tion is so defective as not to be excited by the 
power of music, or whose feelings are so torpid 
and brutalized, as to be wholly indifferent to its 
enchanting operation. It would appear impossi* 
ble to resist the emotions of pleasure, and some- 
times of extacy and rapture, its dulcet and har- 
monious tones are calculated to produce, and that 
man is to be pitied, rather than despised, who can 
remain frigid and motionless in a fine flood of me- 
lody, or amidst a fall and overwhelmning gush of 
delicious sounds. They come not o'er his ear, 

like the sweet south, 

That breathes upon a bank of violets, 
Stealing and giving odour. 

And the poet may, with propriety and truth, ex- 
claim, " Hie niger est, hunc tu caveto," 

But to be pleased with music, and to be a mu- 



88 DRAWING, PAINTING, 

sician, are two distinct and different considera- 
tions, though both are bottomed on the same 
principle, a susceptibility of pleasure, from the 
combinations of harmony and melody. On the 
power of music to excite our sympathies, and to 
rouse or tranquillize our affections and passions, 
I deem it superfluous to dwell : you have, I know, 
already felt this power, and it has been much 
better, and more beautifully, illustrated in Dry- 
den's Alexander's Feast, and by almost every 
poet of ancient and modern times, than I could 
presume to do it: nor is it of any great conse- 
quence to dispute whether this be an imitative 
art, or not, provided we feel its power and can 
understand its principles. The theory of music, 
which, if not an imitative, is, at least, one of the 
line and liberal arts, is connected with natural 
philosophy, and bottomed on the doctrine of 
sounds, produced by the vibratory, or undulatory 
motion of the air. 

To this subject I wish you to pay some atten- 
tion 5 for, if you should desire neither to prac- 
tice nor compose, it will not, at all events, be 
lime and information thrown away. But to be 
able to perform on some musical instrument, and 
occasionally to relieve the toil of study, and the 
gloom of solitude ; and to soften the asperities 



ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 89 

and lessen the miseries of life, must be an accom- 
plishment you cannot but feel anxious to possess; 
and as Beattie* very justly remarks, " nothing 
but practice will ever give that quickness to the 
ear which is necessary to enable one to enter, 
with adequate satisfaction, or rat'onal dislike, into, 
the merits or demerits of a musical perform- 
ance." I am not at all surprized that Chester- 
field should have been so much opposed to his 
son obtaining a practical knowledge of music, be- 
cause his aim seems to have been to drill and 
mould him into a modern fine gentleman, gar- 
nished out with all the external polish and 
brilliancy of manners he was capable of acquir- 
ing, while his heart remained void of every 
thing, but the frigidity and deceitfulness of that 
school 'of politeness to which he wished him 
to belong. How music canhave the effect, as 
he asserts, of putting " a gentleman in a very 
frivolous and contemptible light," I cannot ea- 
sily conceive. It certainly is not in my mind 
either very contemptible, or very frivolous, to 
be able to relish the finest combinations of 
sounds, or to be capable of resorting in a leisure 
hour to an amusement which is so well calcula- 
ted to beget emotions of pleasure, and so suited 
to tranquillize the agitations of the mind, and to 

* Beattie's Essays. 

H 2 



90 DRAWING, PAINTING, 

soften the ruggedness of our nature. Much grea- 
ter men than Chesterfield — I mean Polybius, Pla- 
to, Aristotle, Plutarch, Quinctillian, and though 
last, not least, Montesquieu himself, have given 
their suffrage in favour of this exquisite art, and 
have praised it, as an efficient instrument of mo- 
ral and political discipline, which not only re- 
fines the manners, but smooths the rough paths 
of science and of labour. Had 1 not felt its 
power, and experienced its utility, I should have 
thought it unnecessary to recommend it, as a part 
of the system of education I wish you to pur- 
sue, and shall not now press it upon you, if 
your ear or your tase should forbid its attain- 
ment ; but this is not the case, and your incli- 
nation will lead you to acquire it. The instru- 
ments on which I should be pleased to see you 
perform, with facility and skill, are the flute, 
clariooett, and violin, or either of them. Of these, 
the two first are very simple and soon mastered, 
but the latter is more difficult, because it is not 
so perfect, and will require more time, attention, 
and practice. A few lessons from a skilful teach- 
er, will be sufficient to give you a competent 
knowledge of this branch of the art, in which you 
will continue to improve, as you continue to prac- 
tice; and, as to the theory, I need only refer you 
to Rousseau and D'Alembert, who have written 



ARCHITECTURE, AND MUSIC. 91 

on this subject with their usual ability and elo- 
quence, and who will give you all the information 
you may desire. But, before I conclude, I would 
suggest to you the propriety, if your voice be tol- 
erable, of taking some lessons in vocal music al- 
so, that you may have it in your power, when re 
quested, to accompany a singer, and to join in the 
vocal part of the service of your God with bene- 
fit to yourself and ; pleasure to others. 

The fine arts of which I have spoken in this 
letter, may be united to graver studies, and pur- 
sued in connexion with natural philosophy or 
civil history. By devoting one hour a day to 
each, your progress will be rapid, and you will, 
in a short time, attain that point of excellence in, 
and that degree of acquaintance with, them ? 
which it may be desirable for you to possess. 

Adieu. 



LETTER VI 



ON A COURSE OF ANCIENT HISTORY. 



My Dear Son : 

You have now reached that degree of 
literary and scientific knowledge, which will qua- 
lify you to enter upon a regular course of histori- 
cal reading. Your preparatory attainments are 
such as will enable you to derive great benefit, 
as well as much satisfaction, from the study you 
are about to commence 5 and, though you have 
already acquired some knowledge of ancient his- 
tory, while engaged in learning the Greek and 
Latin languages, you must not think that suffi- 
cient, of itself, to preclude the necessity of fur- 
ther research, or of a more extended acquaintance 
with the subject. It is necessary to contemplate 
history with the eye and spirit of philosophy ; to 
view it as a whole, in all its connexions ; to 
trace effects from their causes, and to follow the 
progress of nations, as of men, through all their 
revolutions and changes ; from baibarism to re- 
finement, from their origin to their end. The 
plan recommended by D'Alembert, is there- 



ANCIENT HISTORY. 93 

fore, injudicious and improper ; because he wish- 
es the effects to be studied, before the causes are 
known, and to commence with modern and end 
with ancient history. A retrogression of this 
kind is painful, because it is contrary to nature, 
and, in a great degree useless, because we lose 
that link in the chain of events, which is necessa- 
ry to keep up the connexion. The study of an- 
cient history may not, perhaps, be so useful to 
the statesman, but, to the philosopher and the 
christian, it is equally important with that of mo- 
dern history ; and though the early annals of almost 
every nation, be blended with, and in a great de- 
gree, buried in fiction and fable ; yet it must be 
conceded, that it is sometimes gratifying, if not 
important, to be acquainted with them. In com- 
mencing this interesting science, I would ad- 
vise you to have recourse to a well digested and 
rapid outline of universal history, from the ear- 
liest to the latest times, that you may have a 
close view and a just comprehension of the whole 
chain of "events ; the rise and fall, and the con- 
nexion, dependence, and revolutions of nations : 
and I know of nothing so short, and at the same 
time so complete, on this head, as Le Sage's ge- 
neral picture of universal ancient history, con- 
tained in one sheet; which you should read and 
read again, till you have a perfect conception. 



94 COURSE OF 

and distinct recollection of the whole subject; 
thus, with great ingenuity, spread before the eye, 
in the manner of a geographical map. Having 
mastered this, you may then take up the modern 
compilers of general history, of whom, perhaps, 
the best are Milot and Rollin ; while, at the same 
time, you pay the strictest attention to chronolo- 
gy and geography. You will soon discover the 
Impossibility, and, indeed, the absolute useless- 
ness of reading the very numerous historical 
works with which the world is at present filled.— 
The mind would sink under the weight and pres- 
sure of such a mass, and the memory, however 
tenacious and vigorous, could not retain but a 
small portion of what had been committed to its 
keeping. It has been very justly remarked by 
Milot, that, " human genius is too limited to be 
able to perceive, distinctly, a vast multitude of 
objects, when confounded together, and that to 
grasp at more than we can possibly retain, is the 
way to know nothing, or to know every thing 
imperfectly." An attention, therefore, to the 
following general rules, while engaged in the stu- 
dy of history, will be of great importance in fa- 
cilitating your progress, and rendering your path 
more smooth, accessible, and pleasant. 

First, Confine yourself, as far as may be prae- 
icable, to what is important. 



ANCIENT. HISTORY. do 

Secondly. Never remain satisfied until you 
have obtained the truth, if within your reach. 

Thirdly, Be neither too sceptical, nortoo cre- 
dulous in your investigations. 

Fourthly* Always examine for yourself, and 
depend on no authority too implicitly. Your 
knowledge of logic and mathematics will be of 
great aid to you in this. 

Fifthly. Avoid too subtile and minute en- 
quiries, which demand too much time, and are of 
no great moment at last : and, 

Sixthly, endeavour to acquire and retain only 
that which is useful and necessary ; such as a 
knowledge of the virtues and vices, the genius 
and character, the laws and customs, the consti- 
tution and policy, the literature and science of 
nations, and the causes which contributed to their 
greatness, and which led to their destruction. 

An attention to these rules will guide you in 
the march you are now to make, and render 
whatever you read highly useful and interesting. 
In relation to chronology, I think it more proper 
that you should study it, in connexion with histo- 



96 course or 

ry, than as a separate branch of knowledge.* De« 
pending, as it does, wholly upon memory, you 
will see the necessity of observing a regular 
order in your dates, that they may be more easi- 
ly acquired and remembered. Chronological, or 
historical charts, such as Priestley's and the atlas 
of Le Sage, or Lavoisne, are, therefore, the best ;•• 
as they present to the eye all the events and cha- 
racters of each period in one line, and almost at 
one view, and thus fix them more permanently up- 
on the memory. After you have read Milot and 
Rollin, with proper care, you should take up the 
Bible, into which, I know, you have already dip- 
ped, but which you must now examine more dili- 
gently; because it is the oldest historical record 
extant, and gives an account of the earliest, and, 
perhaps, the most interesting periods of the 
world. Abstractedly from the religion it incul- 
cates, and to which we are bound to pay the high- 

* A Russian writer, Count Potoki, has attempted to elevate 
Chronology to the rank of a science, in a work entitled, 
" Principes de Chronologie pour les temps anterieurs aux 
Olympiades," which may be consulted with advantage. De- 
leuze is of opinion, that the best method of studying chronolo- 
gy, unconnected with history, is to set down the dates of the 
most important epochs, in regular order, on a slip of paper, 
and commit them to memory. " The knowledge of the rest," 
he observes, " will be the fruit of order, and acquired without 
our thinking of it.'? 



ANCIENT HISTORY. 97 

est respect and deference, it contains a body of 
history, the authenticity of which has been con- 
firmed by geological investigations, the traditions 
of other countries, and the progress of civiliza- 
tion ; and which, from the simplicity of its style, 
the excellence and sublimity of its sentiments, 
and its rich and splendid poetical images, cannot 
but be read with the deepest interest and satis- 
faction. For a further account of the Jewish 
and other oriental nations, you may consult Jose- 
phus, Calmet's Scripture Illustrated, and Sanconi- 
atho's Phoenician History ; but next to the sacred 
volume 1 have mentioned above, Herodotus stands 
first in rank, if not in antiquity. His history con- 
tains a narrative of all that he knew concern- 
ing the Lydians, Ionians, Lycians, Egyptians, 
Persians, Greeks, and Macedonians, and embra- 
ces a period of near 234 years, terminating about 
479 years before the birth of Christ. As it will 
be tedious and unnecessary to dwell on the con- 
tents and merits of each historian I may name, I 
shall briefly direct your attention to those which 
follow, and, at the same time, suggest the pro- 
priety of reading them in the order in which 
they are given. After Herodotus must suc- 
ceed Thucydides, and to Herodotus and Thucy- 
dides, you should occasionally join Justin, Corne- 
lius Nepos, Plutarch, and Diodorus Siculus, who 
I 



98 COURSE QF 

enlarge on, and corroborate, the facts those histo- 
rians furnish. You will see when they touch on 
the same subject, and delineate the same charac- 
ters ; and when they do this, it will be proper to 
examine them together. To Thucydides, must 
succeed Xenophon's History of Greece and Ex- 
pedition of Cyrus, and the Histories of Greece 
and Persia by Diodorus Siculus , together with 
Arrian and Quintus Curtius. You may then read 
the modern compilations of Mitford or Gillies,* 
Potter's Grecian Antiquities, and the travels of 
Anacharsis by Barthelemy. An attentive perusal 
of these writers, will give you a competent know- 
ledge, not only of that highly interesting, and 
once beautiful country, but of the whole world in 
those ages. From Greece, you should proceed 
to Rome, and while reading the histories of that 
country, you will necessarily become acquainted, 
from the connexion which existed beween it, and 
the other nations of the world, with such of the 
memorable events and distinguished characters 
of those nations as have been preserved and 
transmitted to us. In commencing the Roman 
history, 1 would again recommend to you some 
well-written epitome, such as Florus, Eutropius, 
or Goldsmith's Rome, accompanied with La- 
voisne's atlas, before you proceed to the more am- 

* Mitford and Gillies' History of Greece. 



ANCIENT HISTORY. 99 

pie and extended histories of that country. When 
you have made yourself sufficiently acquainted 
with these, you may proceed to the regular and 
consecutive perusal of the following authors, 
namely: Dionysius Halicarnassus, Livy, Polybius, 
Plutarch, Appian, Sallust, Caesar, Dion. Cassius, 
Suetonius, Paterculus, Tacitus, Herodian, Aure- 
lius Victor, and, if you please, what have been 
called the Scriptores Romani, viz : Zozimus, Jo- 
mandes, Ammianus Marcillinus, Procopius, Aga- 
thias, and the Byzantine historians ; to which may 
be added, Hook's Roman History, Crevier's Ro- 
man Emperors, the Ancient Universal History, 
perhaps one of the finest bodies of history in the 
world ; Adams' Roman Antiquities, and Prlont- 
faucou's Antiquities Explained, which you need 
only consult occasionally. All the classical wri- 
ters I have named, should be read in connexion 
with D'Anville's Ancient Geography, Grenet's 
Atlas Portatif, Strabo, and Pausanias. 

In studying the history of Rome, you must not 
neglect to make yourself well acquainted with 
the Institutes of Justinian, which will not only 
enable you more perfectly to understand the do- 
mestic policy of that people, but will be of great 
and essential service to you, both as a lawyer 
and a statesman. A knowledge of coins and me- 
dals must also be attained, because it greatly fa= 



100 



COURSE OF 



eilitates the acquisition of history, and illustrates 
the darkness and obscurity which sometimes en- 
velope the events, dates, and geographical posi- 
tions of ancient nations, and because it is also 
very important in the study of natural history, 
poetry, painting, sculpture, and architecture.— 
For this purpose, you need only consult Addison 
on the usefulness of ancient medals; a small work 
entitled an " Essay on Medals," and an introduc- 
tion to the knowledge of medals, by D. Jennings, 
and whatever collections of ancient coins and 
medals you may meet with. You will be pleased 
always to bear in mind, that the mere narrative 
of events, however eloquently told, is not all you 
must attend to in the prosecution of jour histori- 
cal studies. Higher and more important ends 
should be kept in view, namely, utility and im- 
provement; and you must endeavour to blend, 
with the narrative of" olden times," an acquaint- 
ance with the state of the sciences and arts, the 
political, moral, and religious opinions ; the com- 
merce and agriculture; and the manners, customs, 
and usages of different epochs. With this view, 
you will see the propriety of joining to the histo- 
rians, from time to time, the orators, philoso- 
phers, and poets of antiquity, who will agreeably 
supply you with the information you desire, and, 
at the same time, as I have already observed, im- 



ANCIENT HISTORY. 1Q1 

prove your taste, enlarge your understanding, and 
invigorate your fancy. 

Having completed the first great division of 
history, viz: that of ancient times, you must pro- 
ceed to the history of the middle ages, which em- 
braces a period of ten centuries, extending from 
the fall of the Roman Empire, in the west, to the 
discovery of the new world, by Columbus. A 
work has recently appeared, which, though it be 
in fact, merely an abridgment, contains almost 
every thing necessary to be known of those dark, 
but interesting periods of the world: I mean 
Hallam's View of the state of Europe, which 
you will read with care. To this, may be join- 
ed, Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of 
the Roman Empire, which will be sufficient, till 
you commence your course of modern history ; 
for the most of the historians of this portion of 
time, go back to the origin of the nations whose 
history they give, and furnish no incomplete ac- 
counts of the middle ages of the world. I have 
already mentioned, en passant, some of the mo- 
dern writers of ancient history, and on ancient 
times, and to these, I would further add, Middle- 
ton^ Life of Cicero, Russell's Ancient Europe, 
Vertot's Revolutions, Ferguson's Rome, and Le 
Beau's Historie du Bas Empire. 

Adieu. 
I 2 



LETTER VII. 



ON A COURSE OF MODERN HISTORY. 



My Dear Son : 

You desire me now to give you such di-' 
rections as may be necessary in the further pro- 
secution of your historical studies, and inform 
me you have pursued, with great benefit, the 
course previously recommended to you, in rela- 
tion to the manner of reading ancient history. — 
I am not a little gratified at the progress you 
have'made, and the number of historians you 
have read, both in the original and in transla- 
tion. And it affords, in addition, no inconsidera- 
ble pleasure, to be told that you derived more 
satisfaction from the perusal of the Bible, than 
from that of any other work of antiquity, how- 
ever distinguished for its elegance, sententious- 
ness, and beauty. It affords me pleasure, because 
it accords with the opinion I have long entertain- 
ed, and satisfies me that your moral taste and 
sentiments have not yet been vitiated. But in 
our opinion of the excellence of this book, we 
are not alone : some of the greatest men the 



MODERN HISTORY. 103 

world has produced, have given this sacred vo- 
lume a decided preference, in all that constitutes 
sublimity, morality, history, and eloquence ; and, 
I will venture to say, that no mind, not wholly 
vitiated, can rise from the contemplation of the 
pure morality it inculcates, without finding itself 
better informed, and more intensely inspired with 
the love of virtue and of God. 

Your short, but satisfactory remarks on the va- 
rious ancient historians you have read, are high- 
ly gratifying to me, as they manifest a laborious 
attention and a fine taste, for what is admirable 
in composition, and excellent in morals, that will 
add much to your advantage in the prosecution 
of your subsequent studies. Of all the profane 
historians you have read, I agree with you, my 
dear son, in thinking that Thucydides, Polybius, 
Livy, and Tacitus, are the most eloquent, judi- 
cious, and well informed. All nations have unit- 
ed in extolling their merits, and admiring their 
genius ; and it is impossible to study them with- 
out having the mind, in no ordinary degree, en- 
larged and improved. Thucydides has been 
proposed by Longinus, as a model of grandeur 
and elevation in the composition of history, and, 
if we properly consider the powers he has dis- 
covered in the work he has written, we cannot 



104 COURSE OF 

but admit his pretensions, and coincide in judg- 
ment with the able critic I have just mentioned. 

It is scarcely necessary to inform you, so great 
was the consideration in which he was held by 
the Greeks, that Demosthenes is said to have 
transcribed him several times, in order to habitu- 
ate himself to the rapidity of his conceptions, and 
to catch the close and vigorous manner in which 
he wrote. Indeed, you will find almost every 
word he employs, a sentence, and every sentence 
replete with energy and thought. Of Polvbius, 
I cannot speak so highly ; he is often loose in 
the structure of his sentences, and careless and 
negligent in the choice of his words : but in the 
importance of his matter, and the extent and 
comprehension of his views, he is superior to 
Thucvdides, and better calculated to afford in* 
struction to the politician and the statesman. 

You cannot think too favourably of the Roman 
historians, Livy and Tacitus. Livv is peculiar- 
ly happy in narration — his pictures are drawn by 
the hand of a master ; his colouring is delicately, 
though richly laid on, and his contrasts finely 
conceived and happily executed. He is at once 
eloquent, graceful, and majestic ; moving forward 
with a loftiness that astonishes, and a sweetness 



MODERN HISTORY, 105 

and fluency that never fail to captivate and 
charm. There is a plainness in the midst of his 
majesty, which leads us to believe he is destitute 
of art, though he possesses a great deal of it; but 
this pleases us the more, because it is not seen, 
and because it is wholly free from the appearance 
of affectation. The faults of Livy's style are dif- 
fusiveness, want of vigour, and occasional obscu- 
rity ; and, as an historian, he has been charged 
with negligence in the investigation of his facts, 
too much partiality in the details he has given, 
and too strong a love for what was marvellous 
and impossible. 

We now approach the oraculous Tacitus — a 
wTiter as distinguished for his political, as his 
historical excellence, and whom, it is impossible 
to read, without being edified and delighted : 
I prefer him before all the Greek and Roman 
historians 1 have mentioned, and would recom- 
mend him to you, in a particular manner, as 
a writer whose merits you should study, and 
whose excellences you should endeavour to imi- 
tate. Tacitus seems to have had a proper con- 
ception of the true character and legitimate ob- 
jects of history, and though the events which he 
has chosen to record, are marked with great cor- 
ruption and iniquity, he neither advances what 



106 COURSE OF 

is false, nor suppresses what is true ; but with an 
impartiality that must excite our admiration, he 
details the actions of men, without magnifying 
their turpitude, or depreciating their merits. His 
mind was richly fraught with every species of in- 
formation, necessary to constitute an able and 
eloquent historian: he was well acquainted with 
the different modes of government then existing ; 
versed in the secret policy of states, and had an 
intimate knowledge of mankind. " In him," 
says Blackwall,* " the statesman brightens the 
scholar, and the consul improves and elevates 
the historian." His deductions are maxims, be- 
cause they are founded on the nature of truth, 
and drawn from an acquaintance with the mo- 
tives and actions of men. He was as much of an 
orator, as an historian ; his images are striking, 
and his delineations admirable; we feel the emo- 
tions he wishes to communicate, and the passions 
he intends to excite : in short, every description 
he gives you, is a picture, and every picture is 
complete. But Tacitus had his faults—- his de- 
scriptions are sometimes too minute, and his 
style often too figurative and ambitious. He is 
rather nure inclined to paint the vices than the 
virtues of our nature ; to exhibit the gloomy and 

* Blackwail's Introduction to the Classics. 



MODERN HISTORY. 107 

sombrous, rather than the gay and brilliant tints 
of the picture he presents. Yet still his magic 
pencil gives colour, and form, and shape, to eve- 
ry thing it touches ; and every thing he touches, 
springs like Venus from the ocean, arrayed in 
beauty, and filled with attraction. The orator 
will read him with delight, and the philosopher 
with admiration, for the history of Tacitus is, 
indeed, " Philosophy teaching by example." 

Your admiration of Plutarch, is not in the least 
surprising : he has had his admirers in all ages, 
and is likely to have them as long as learning is 
esteemed, and integrity beloved. The very na- 
ture of his work, exclusive of its intrinsic merits, 
is such as to charm and edify almost every read- 
er. We contemplate, at almost every period of 
life, the lives of the poets, the orators, the philo- 
sophers, and heroes of antiquity, through a me- 
dium so clear and so transparent, that our plea- 
sure increases as we advance, and we quit them 
with a regret that he did not leave us more. It 
is the nature of this species of composition, to 
please : we are anxious to know every thing 
that concerns those whose talents, and virtues, 
and heroism, have excited our admiration, and 
filled the world with their fame. The more we 
know of them, the more we are interested, and 



108 COURSE OF 

when we meet with their biographies, sketched 
with the ability that Plutarch displays, we peruse 
them with avidity, and leave them with reluc- 
tance. 

The historians I have glanced at, my dear son, 
and, also, the orators and poets of antiquity you 
have read, I should wish you to read over and 
over again, 

" Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna." 

They are models in all that is excellent in art, 
and all that is masterly and finished in composi- 
tion. When you have acquired a taste for their 
beauties, and a relish for their various excellen- 
ces, you will find your mind imbued with such 
classical imagery, sentiment, and discrimination, 
that you will relish, with additional zest, what- 
ever bears the stamp of polished genius, or the 
impress of intellectual refinement. 

It is now time to take up modern history, in 
the study of which I have only to recommend a 
course, similar to that which you have already 
pursued in relation to the ancient historians. 

First, Read the best executed historical epi- 
tomes, or abridgments, paying the strictest at- 



ilODERN HISTORV. 109 

iention to order in your reading ; for the art 
of memory is greatly aided by regularity, and, 
indeed, without regularity, all will be confusion 
in your mind. The best epitomes of modern 
history with which I am acquainted, are PurYen- 
dorf's and Milot's. These, with the historical 
chart of Priestley, and the great atlas of Le 
Sage, or Lavoisne, will give yon an ample 
outline of modern history, which you may af- 
terwards fill up, by reading those historians 
who furnish more minute and circumstantial 
details. The atlas of Le Sage or Lavoisne, 
is a work so ingeniously conceived, and so 
admirably executed, as to form in itself a body 
of universal history, geography, and chronology, 
which will enable you, almost at a single glance, 
to take a wide and comprehensive, yet connected 
survey, of the events of nations, and to pur- 
sue, without much difficulty or labour, the 
whole chain of facts, with their concomitant 
dates, from the earliest to the latest periods of 
the world. I have seen no work so well calcu- 
lated to give you a general view of history, or 
one that contains, in truth, so happy a combina- 
tion of history, genealogy, chronology, and ge- 
ography. Grey's ingenious Memoria Technica, 
is another work which will greatly facilitate 
the acquisition of historical facts and dates, 
K 



110 COURSE OF 

and which may be easily understood and re- 
tained. To avoid confusion, and to preserve 
the order I have suggested, I would recom- 
mend the following division, as one that will 
be found eminently useful. 

First. Ancient history, which terminates with 
the destruction of the Roman Empire in the west, 
and with which you are already acquainted. 

Secondly. History of the Middle Ages, em- 
bracing a period from the above epoch, to the 
discovery of America ; and, 

Thirdly. Modern History, which comprehends 
the modern ages, and the whole intervening 
time, since the period of that discovery. 

Of these three grand divisions of general histo- 
ry, the most important, if not the most interest- 
ing, is the third or last ; because it commences 
at an era of the world, when a new order of 
things arose, and a new chain of events began. 

To this division, therefore, it is desirable you 
should pay the utmost attention, and, with the 
momentous and important events it embraces, 
make yourself well acquainted. As a further 



MODERN HISTORY. ill 

aid to your memory, and an additional facility 
to your improvement, I should wish you to sub- 
divide these again into other divisions ; for ex- 
ample, to begin and end with some remarkable 
epoch or revolution, which you will arrange into 
separate sections, each containing — 

First* The civil and military affairs of the 
nation whose history you are reading. 

Secondly. The history of its constitution, laws* 
and government. 

Thirdly* That of its learning, and learned 
men. 

Fourthly. That of its fine arts. 

Fifthly. That of its commerce, agriculture, 
and manufactures, as far as such information 
can be obtained: and, 

Sixthly. That of its manners, customs, lan- 
guage, &c. 

This arrangement can be preserved, by means 
of a common place book, into which you may 
enter the most remarkable events, and what 



112 COURSE OF 

ever relates to these subdivisions, under their 
respective heads. After having formed this ar- 
rangement, and made these preparations, you 
may proceed to the modern part of the uni- 
versal history of which I have spoken, or that by 
Mavor, Muller, or Milot, which will give you a 
general, though rapid, survey of the events of the 
modern world, and make you well enough ac- 
quainted with the histories of the different na- 
tions of Asia. The connexion existing between 
the ancient and middle ages, you have already 
preserved, and have, at the same time, acquir- 
ed a pretty correct knowledge of the origin and 
early events of those nations, now so conspicu- 
ous in the world, by the perusal of Hallam's - 
History of the Middle Ages, and Gibbon's De- 
cline and Fall of the Roman Empire. But, in 
relation to the latter, I must not neglect to avail 
myself of this opportunity of putting you on 
your guard against the sly sarcasms, bitter irony, 
and dangerous insinuations, in which he occa- 
sionally indulges against theChristian Religion. 

The style and manner of Gibbon, are very 
fascinating and attractive to a youthful mind, 
which is too apt to be misled by richness of 
fancy and splendour of diction. To his style, 
he has paid, perhaps, too much attention ; it in- 



MODERN HISTORY. 113 

deed abounds " in elegancies of all sorts," and 
is always distinguished by precision and strength, 
harmony and richness. His mind possessed an 
elegant abstraction — his remarks are solid, yet 
sprightly ; just, yet vivacious ; and his learning, 
research, ingenuity, and liberality, are such, 
that we feel it impossible to withhold our admi- 
ration, and are constrained to agree with Dr. 
Robertson, in thinking that there is no example, 
in any age or nation, of such a vast body of 
valuble and elegant information, communicated 
by a single individual. From Gibbon, you will 
proceed to the history of modern Europe, by 
Russell, Bigland's Sketch of the history of Eu- 
rope, from 1783; and thence to the more copi- 
ous and extended histories of the different mo- 
dern nations, beginning with that of Italy, and 
proceeding to those of France,* Germany, 
Spain, Russia, and Great Britain ; and, finally, 
closing with the history of your own country. 
Among the historians of Great Britain, I con- 
ceive it almost useless to name Hume and Ro- 
bertson, because you must already be acquaint- 
ed with their merits and their fame ; but to 

* Gilford's History of France ; Naylor's History of Ger- 
many ; Bigland's History of Spain, and Ramsay's Universal 
History, may be read in addition to the last histories of those 
nations. 

K 2 






114 COURSE OP 

Hume's England, and Robertson's Charles V., I 
should wish you, as you intend to adopt the pro- 
fession of the law, to pay particular attention. 
These able and elegant historians, have given a 
very ample and satisfactory account of the feudal 
system, a branch of knowledge indispensable to 
the legal student, as it is the parent and founda- 
tion of almost all the law that exists, both in 
this country and England, in relation to real ] 
property. But, in addition to this information, 
so important and useful to a lawyer, you will find 
in them a spirit of philosophy, a chastity and 
elegance of style, and a justness and depth of 
observation, which I .should be delighted to see 
you acquire, and by which I know you will be 
benefited. In the wide range of general his- 
tory I have pointed out for your pursuit, I must 
not omit to mention the historians of particular 
periods or reigns, and the memoirs and biogra- 
phies of illustrious men, who have distinguished 
themselves by their talent, their knowledge, their 
magnanimity, or their patriotism. 

This source of information will be enlarged, 
and its acquisition facilitated, by your knowledge 
of the Italian, Spanish, and French languages, 
which, you tell me, you now begin to read with 
considerable ease. These will open to you an 



MODERN HISTORY. 115 

extensive and variegated field of instruction and 
entertainment, and enable you, with greater sa- 
tisfaction and advantage, to peruse the best and 
most classical writers of foreign nations, in their 
native tongues. In the Italian, you will find 
some historians who may very properly be placed 
in the first rank. These are, Guiceiardini, Sis- 
mondi, Davila, Bentivoglio, Father Paul, Gian- 
none, and Machiavel. In the Spanish, I know 
of none, except Mariana, and De Solis, that 
merit to be classed among historians; but Spain 
has not produced many writers of great merit in 
any department of literature, except the drama, 
and fictitious history, and I question whether 
even her best historians can lay claim to a 
very high meed of praise, in historical writ- 
ing. France, however, stands pre-eminent in 
compositions of all kinds, from the gravity of 
philosophy, to the sprightliness and brilliancy 
of u divine poesy.' 5 In memoirs, especially, the 
French writers excel ; but of these, it will be 
proper to read the best only, and, I think, none 
can be superior to those of Sully and the Cardi- 
nal De Retz. From them you will derive, not 
only much historical information, but a great 
deal of amusement and general instruction. — 
They will let you into the secrets and intrigues 
of cabinets, the policy of governments, and the 



116 COURSE OP 

nature of man, in his highest state of refinement, 
and placed amidst the splendour and corruption, 
and polish, of courts. Connected with a course 
of general history, are the histories of particular 
reigns, and the lives of public men. Of these, 
the most excellent are, Robertson's Charles V., 
Philip de Comines, Thuanus, Rosco's Leo X., 
and Lorenzo De Medicis ; Sommerville's Reign 
of Queen Anne, Belsham's George I., II., and 
III. ; Watson's Philip II. and III.; Took's Ca- 
therine II., Voltaire's Louis XIV., Charles 
XIL, and Peter the Great ; Miss Aikin's Eliza- 
beth, and James I.; Harris' Lives of James, 
the two Charles's, and Cromwell ; and Segur's 
Frederick and William II. These should be 
read in connexion with the history of the coun- 
try you are studying. But the history of Eng- 
land being blended with that of our own coun- 
try, and the nations themselves intimately con- 
nected by a similarity of laws, language, usages, 
and customs, it will require more of your atten- 
tion and time than that of any other nation.-— 
Of Great Britain, and especially England, many 
histories, annals, and chronicles have been writ- 
ten and compiled. To read the whole of them 
would be an Herculean undertaking, and I con- 
ceive an unnecessary waste of time and labour. 
It will be sufficient, therefore, barely to run 



MODERN HISTORY, 117 

over such as I think deserve your more particu- 
lar attention. They are, first, Goldsmith, then 
Rapin, Hume, with Smollett's and Bisset's Con- 
tinuation, Henry, M'Cauly, Baxter, Holinghead's 
Chronicles, Robertson's Scotland, Warner's Ire- 
land, and Baine's or Stephen's Wars of the 
French Revolution, accompanied by occasional 
references to the British Annual Register, the 
Parliamentary Debates, and the State Trials. 

When you have completed the history of Eng- 
land, and arranged and digested it according to 
the very judicious plan Henry has adopted in 
his work, you should next proceed to the history 
of South America, and, finally, to that of your 
own country, of the details of which, it is desirable 
you should make yourself a perfect master. The 
best histories of the southern division of this 
great quarter of the globe, are Robertson's 
South America, Pizarro and Orcllana's History 
of the New World, Garcilasso de la Vega's 
Royal Commentaries, Diaz del Castello's Con- 
quest of New Spain, De Solis' Conquest, and 
Clavigero's History of Mexico, Torquemada's 
Indian Monarchy, Southey's Brazil, Molina's 
Chili, Leone's Peru, Charlievoix's Paraguay, and 
Edward's West Indies. To these, it will be 



118 COURSE OF 

proper to add the narratives of the early voy- 
agers, and first discoverers of that continent, 
viz: Herrera, Ulloa, &c. 5 and a perusal of 
Humboldt's Mexico and Narrative, and an oc- 
casional inspection of Thompson's Alcido, will 
supply you with all the information that can 
now be obtained of the present condition of that 
very beautiful portion of our globe. Of our 
own country, the principal histories are, Ram- 
say's United States of America, and Marshall's 
Life of Washington, which partakes more of a 
general history, than a biography. To these 
must be joined, all the histories of the different 
States that you can obtain,* from the period of 
their discovery, to that of their confederation ; 
together with Gordon, Botta, Ramsay, and War- 
ren's Histories of the American Revolution, 
Henry Lee's Memoirs, Heckewelder, Colden, 
and Adair's Indian Histories ; Douglas's Summa- 
ry, Burke's European Settlements in America, 

* Burke's" History of Virginia, Proud's History of Pennsyl- 
vania, with Findlay's History of the Pennsylvania Insurrection ; 
Hutchison's History of Massachusetts, Winthrop's Journal, 
Hewitt's South-Carolina, M'Call's Georgia, Smith's New- 
York, Smith's New-Jersey, Belsham's New-Hampshire, Trum- 
bull's Connecticut, Williams' Vermont, and Bozman's Ma- 
ryland. These are the best State histories we have, though, 
on the vyhole, defective in matter, arrangement, and style. 



MODERN HISTORr. 119 

Holmes' Annals, and whatever relates to the 
civil, natural, political, and geographical history 
of our highly-favoured country. The history of 
each nation may be closed by the perusal of the 
accounts of it. furnished by the most intelligent 
and unprejudiced tourists and travellers who 
have visited it ; and thus, your knowledge of 
each, will be rendered more complete and per- 
fect. It may be again necessary to remind you, 
before I conclude, that, in the whole course of 
•your historical reading, you must never lose 
sight of the order and arrangement 1 recom- 
mended to you, at the commencement of this 
letter, as so essential to a clear understanding, 
and a perfect recollection of the facts you have 
acquired, nor, at any time, neglect to accom- 
pany your course with chronological tables, and 
geographical maps — the two eyes of history : for 
without these, it will he impossible, accurate- 
ly, to follow the chain of events, to preserve 
the details, to unite the histories of different 
countries, or, in short, to read with that satis- 
faction history is calculated to afford, and in- 
tended to yield. I have purposely omitted to 
say any thing of ecclesiastical history, because 
it is not a branch of knowledge so important 
in this as in other countries ; yet I would not 
have you to be wholly unacquainted with it. 



120 COURSE OF, &G* 

You will find it of some service, from its connex- 
ion with civil history, and not of very difficult 
attainment. All that you, or perhaps any Lay- 
man, need know of the subject, may be found 
in Mosheim's or Milnor's Ecclesiastical Histo- 
ry, and Bower's History of the Popes, which I 
recommend to your perusal. 

Adieu. 



LETTER VIII. 



ON THE OBJECTS AND USES OF HISTORY. 



My Dear Son: 

It has been my endeavour, in the course 
of historical reading I have attempted to point 
out for your instruction, to impress upon your 
mind the necessity of considering history as 
philosophy teaching by example. You must be 
careful not to neglect this great and prominent 
object ; but, if possible, always to view the 
events of the world which the muse of history 
has delineated, often, indeed, with a pencil dip- 
ped in blood, and not less frequently in the 
vivid colouring of fancy, through the medium of 
philosophy alone. 

The great tendency of history, is to inculcate 
wisdom — it has the same effect on youth, that 
experience has upon old age. "The school of 
example," says Bolingbroke, " is the world ; 
and the masters of this school, are history and 
experience." In the page of history, we con- 
template man in every condition of life — in eve- 
L 



122 OBJECTS AND USES 

ry gradation of virtue and of vice. He is pre- 
sented to us, as before a tribunal by which he 
is to be condemned or acquitted. We are made 
acquainted with all his motives, his feelings, 
and his actions ; the whole form is portrayed — 
no part is thrown into shade, or concealed by 
drapery ; he stands before us, as nature, educa- 
tion, or society has made him ; we pity his mis- 
fortunes, we love his virtues, and turn with hor- 
ror and disgust from his vices. The historian, 
indeed, is, and ought always to be, the friend of 
virtue ; and, whatever may be his prejudices or 
his feelings, the love of fame compels him to 
praise or to censure, wherever praise or censure 
is due. History is not only a school of exam- 
ple, but a school of virtue : We are not only 
taught experience by the examples it furnishes, 
but virtue by the precepts it inculcates. The 
historian, in tracing the rise and fall of nations, 
dares not so pervert the actions of men, as to 
give to virtue the qualities of vice, or to vice, 
the properties of virtue. He is constrained to 
adhere to truth, and to assign to virtue and vice, 
" their local habitation and name." Even Ma- 
ohiavel* himself, according to Hume, vile and 
infamous as his sentiments appear, in his politi- 

* This able man has been much misrepresented and misun- 
derstood. 



OF HISTORY. 123 

cal works, redeems his character in his history 
of Florence, and inflames our love of virtue, 
and our detestation of vice. In this respect it is 
of no great importance whether the event re- 
corded be fictitious or real, exaggerated or dar- 
kened, the operation and effect are the same ; 
and both tend, alike, to produce and strengthen 
the sentiments of virtue. We view, with enthu- 
siasm and delight, the characters of Aristides and 
Fabricius ; but turn, with loathing and horror, 
from those of Nero, Caligula, and Domitian. It 
is in history we behold, as in a mirror, the perni- 
cious effects of the love of power, and the dread- 
ful consequences of blasted ambition. The vi- 
cissitudes of human life, and the revolutions of 
empires, claim alike our sympathy and our com- 
misseration: and the fate of Marius, seated amidst 
the ruins of Carthage, or of Belisarius, wander- 
ing in blindness and beggary, through those coun- 
tries his valour had won,* affects us no less than 
the overthrow of kingdoms, or the fall of empires. 
Look at Babylon, at Palmyra, at Greece, and at 
Rome ! what melancholy does it not produce : 
what a moral does it not inculcate ? Where are 
now the heroes and sas;es of Greece — the cradle 
of the muses, the glory of the world ? 

* Gibbon doubts this fact. 



124 OBJECTS AND USES 

Gone glimmering through the dream of things that were 
A school-boy's tale, the wonder of an hour; 
The warriors weapon, and the sophists stole, 
Axe sought in vain; and o'er each mouldering tower, 
Dim withthe mist of years, gray flits the shade of power. 

Byroa t . 

And Rome, too, the eternal city ; the mistress of 
empires ; " the Niobe of nations !" Where are 
now thy temples, thy glory, and thy might ? 

Come and see 

The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way 
O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye 
Whose agonies are evils of a day, 
A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. 

Byron. 

But the catastrophe of cities, and the downfal 
of nations, are not all we learn from history- 
higher objects are attained : we are led on from 
cause to effect; we are taught to philosophize 
and to reason ; we are made to mark the rise 
and progress, and destruction of kingdoms, and 
to observe the virtues that contributed to their 
greatness, and the vices that produced their 
ruin. In short, we have the experience of ages 
before us, and it is our own fault if we do not 
profit by it, and render it useful to ourselves and 
our country. The experience, too, which is 
thus afforded, is preferable to that which is de» 



OF HISTORY. 125 

rived from a knowledge of the living world ; 
for though the impression made by the former, 
be not so deep or lasting, it is less mixed with 
prejudice or feeling, and the mind enters into 
the examination of the actions of men, and the 
conduct of nations, with more temperance and 
coolness, than it can possibly feel in any view 
it can take of the latter. Moreover, the exam- 
ples which history gives us, are more perfect 
and complete in themselves, than those we have 
an opportunity of observing in our intercourse 
with society ; and their utility > must, of course, 
be proportionably greater. But in what, you 
will perhaps ask, does this utility consist? It 
consists, to sum up the whole in a few words, in 
enlarging our sphere of knowledge, in anticipat- 
ing our acquaintance with the world, in exhibit- 
ing to us a true picture of human life and ac- 
tion, in invigorating our judgment, removing 
our prejudices, lessening our self-love, and mak- 
ing us more wise, virtuous, and happy.* 

* " History," says Sismondi, " is the depository of the ex- 
periments of social science — no less than physic, chemistry, 
agriculture, and medicine, are the depositories of the natural 
sciences. High policy is experimental, and legislation, politi- 
cal economy, finance, war, education, and religion, are so 
likewise. It is important that all should understand the con- 
sequences of human institutions and actions; and these conse- 
quences are to be found in history 

L 2 



126 OBJECTS AND USES 

History is the school of philosophy— the ma- 
gistra vita, the mistress of human life. Her 
precepts are the precepts of wisdom and vir- 
tue ; her sphere the circumference of the world 
and the circle of time ; her principles are the 
principles of rectitude, and her deductions are 
the deductions of experience and of truth. In 
the acquisition of every species of knowledge, 
wisdom and virtue should always be the end pro- 
posed ; and, in history, this end should never be 
forgotten. A mere acquaintance with facts and 
dates is not sufficient — is not all you have to 
acquire. The study of history must be pursued 
as a science ; its principles must be applied to 
actual life, and its knowledge to the concerns of 
nations. But to study it, with this object in 
view, you must carry with you the spirit of phi- 
losophy ; you must analyze and arrange, meditate 
and digest; you must endeavour to trace the 
effect to its cause, and the action to its motive — 

Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas. 

You must constantly labour to separate the true 
from the fabulous, and the real from the ficti- 
tious ; " neither grope in the dark, nor wander in 
the light." What is unnatural, we shall not be- 
lieve, and what we cannot believe, we will not 
felish or be profited by. The origin of almost 



OF HISTORY. 127 

all nations is buried in fable, or adorned by fic- 
tion. Ignorance and superstition are apt to 
magnify error, or to exaggerate and pervert 
truth. What is wonderful or extraordinary, 
delights the mind, in the infancy of knowledge ; 
and invention and imagination are employed to 
raise perhaps a common character, or an ordi- 
nary event, beyond the sphere of probability. 
History sometimes yields her pencil to poetry, 
and Reason often retires, while Fancy usurps 
the throne of truth. 

I have endeavoured, my dear son, to caution 
you against the great evil which the study of 
history now presents — the multiplicity of books. 
I wish you to remember, in this, as in every 
other department of knowledge, the maxim of 
Livy, multum legere potius quam multa. The 
almost infinite number of historical works which 
are to be found in nearly every modern lan- 
guage, would, to be read, require a period 
much longer than that which is allotted as the 
ordinary duration of human life. All that you, 
or any one can do, is to read with discrimina- 
tion, and according to the plan I have sketched 
for your direction. By this mode you will ac- 
quire, to use the language of lord Bolingbroke, 
" less learning, but more knowledge, and, as this 



128 OBJECTS AND USES 

knowledge is collected with design, and cultiva- 
ted with art and method, it will be, at all times, 
of immediate and ready use," both to yourself 
and others. But in the study of history, in ad- 
dition to the eonstant employment of your me- 
mory, you have much to exercise your judgment. 
The veracity of the historian is not always to be 
implicitly depended upon. Among the various 
and contradictory accounts sometimes given of 
the same event by different historians, you 
must examine and determine for yourself : must 
endeavour to separate truth from fiction, the 
probable from the extravagant, the gold from 
the dross. You must weigh, in your mind, 
the probability of every fact recorded, and, 
as in law, admit no evidence but the best of 
which the nature of the case is susceptible. 
You should in this, as in every other science, 
pursue truth through all the meanderings of 
prejudice and of error, and never rest con- 
tented, until you are satisfied she has smiled 
upon your efforts, and crowned your labours 
with success. This, indeed, is more essen- 
tially requisite in the historian himself, but 
the student of history is equally interested in 
feeling that he is right, and in knowing that 
the information he has acquired, is founded 
on the solid basis of immutable truth. From 



OF HISTORY, 129 

these remarks it will be obvious, my son, 
that some preparatory knowledge is requisite 
to make the study of history yield that ex- 
tensive moral, and intellectual advantage and 
profit, it is so well calculated to afford. It 
is true that facts, and names, and dates, may 
be acquired, at a very early period of life, 
and that facts, and names, and dates, cannot 
be too early impressed upon the mind. Every 
one knows that impressions, thus made, are 
not easily obliterated, and are retained long af- 
ter more recent ones are forgotten. But the 
philosophy of history, in its application to the va- 
rious actions of human life, and the conduct 
and condition of nations, is to be acquired, only^ 
when the mind is more matured by age, and en- 
larged by knowledge and experience. Of the 
preparatory information to which I have alluded, 
you are already, in a great degree possessed ; I 
mean an acquaintance with chronology, geog- 
raphy, astronomy, and natural philosophy, to 
which may be added some of the physical sci- 
ences, particularly chemistry and geology, on 
which I shall dwell, more at large, hereafter. 
The utility of chronology and geography, in 
illustrating history, must, from what I have al- 
ready observed, be manifest ; and astronomy, 
in perfecting your knowledge of geography, and 



130 OBJECTS AND tJSES 

in facilitating chronological calculations, and, 
thus enabling you the more easily and per- 
fectly to comprehend the divisions of time 1 , and 
the concatenation of events, cannot be dispens- 
ed with. Mathematics, philosophy, geology, &c. 
you will now find of no little service, in estab- 
lishing the truth, or probability, of those events 
which are connected with the operations of na- 
ture, and the power of art. " Without some ac- 
quaintance with philosophy," says Dr. Priest- 
ley,* "it will be impossible to distinguish be- 
tween the most absurd chimeras of eastern ro- 
mance, and the most natural historical relations," 
and a knowledge of the mathematics, in addition 
to its other advantages which I have already pre- 
viously attempted to develope, will make us 
better acquainted with the military works and 
movements of those nations whose history we 
read. You will understand, my dear son, that 
I do not mean, by these remarks, to insinuate 
that history ought not to be read without a 
knowledge of the sciences 1 have mentioned ; I 
merely wish to be understood, as saying, that it 
will be read with much greater advantage and 
profit — that it will tend more to enlarge and en- 
lighten the mind, and that it will be rendered 

*Lcctures on History. 



OF HISTORY. 131 

more effectually, a school of experience and 
philosophy, by the aid of such preparatory ac- 
quirements. 

In the study of history, every one must have 
a particular object in view. The statesman, 
the divine, the lawyer, and the scholar, will read 
with a different motive, and, sometimes, with an 
altogether different design. But destined as you, 
and most of the youth of this country are, to 
the profession of law, the study of history must 
be pursued, more especially, with a view to 
the knowledge of human nature, and the moral 
world ; and, according to Bolingbroke, princi- 
pally for the purpose of " discovering the ab- 
stract reason of laws — of tracing them from their 
first rough sketches, to the most perfect draughts, 
from the first causes or occasions that produced 
them, through all the effects, good and bad, that 
they produced." You will endeavour to have 
a knowledge, not only of the operation, spirit, 
and abstract reason of the laws, in different na- 
tions, but you must also make yourself acquaint- 
ed with the science of government, its origin, 
its varieties, its revolutions, and its improve- 
ments. A science so intimately blended with 
the happiness and welfare of society — so con- 
nected with its highest privileges, and best in- 



132 OBJECTS AND USES OF HISTORY* 

terests, must be one of the first importance to 
mankind, and of no ordinary magnitude to you, 
born and educated, as you were, in a country so 
highly distinguished by the freedom, and so re- 
markable for the excellence, of its political in- 
stitutions. 

Adieu* 



LETTER IX. 



ON A COURSE OP CHEMISTRY AND MINERALOGY 



'My Dear Son: 

I am pleased to discover that your pro- 
gress has been so rapid, and that your curiosity, 
as well a? your love of study, still continues 
as strong and unabated as ever. The scien- 
ces to which I now wish to direct your mind, 
were, you will recollect, cursorily mentioned 
in one of my former letters,* and may now 
be either omitted, or acquired, as you think 
proper : but it is my opinion, they had better 
be studied, because they are connected with 
the other branches of knowledge you have 
already learned, and are, in themselves, a 
source of high gratification, and no small util- 
ity. They can be pursued in connexion with 
other studies — need not occupy any great por- 
tion of your time, and will always enable you, 
in whatever condition of life you may be plac- 
ed, or into whatever region of the globe you 



* Letter oo Natural Philosophy. 

M 






134 COURSE OF CHEMISTRY 

may be thrown, to avoid the irksomeness of 
solitude, and the miseries of indolence. Na- 
ture, at every step, will unfold her beauties to 
your view — her varied features will appear in 
new and striking loveliness, and in all that 
fills the air, and the earth, and the ocean, you 
will perceive a thousand beauties — a thousand 
wonders, which would, otherwise, have passed 
unnoticed, or have been neglected ; and which 
will elevate yoUr mind, increase the ardour of 
your devotion, and make you both a better man, 
and a more useful member of society. But 
when I recommend these sciences to your con- 
sideration, in the course of education 1 wish you 
to pursue, you must not understand me as de- 
siring that you should be very solicitous to make 
yourself master of them. There is not time 
for this, and all that you can expect or desire, 
is a knowledge of their elements, a tolerable 
facility in the application of those elements, and 
th 3 capacity to avail yourself of their numerous 
advantages. Such an acquaintance as this, may 
be attained in a much shorter time than is gene- 
rally supposed, and without retarding, very much, 
your progress in other studies, more indispensa- 
ble to your profession. If you should not choose 
to study them separately, you may connect 
them, if you please, with the fine arts, or with 



AND MINERALOGY. 135 

general history, both of which, they serve to il- 
lustrate and improve, and both of which they 
will aid you in understanding more thoroughly. 
These sciences may be embraced under the 
general name of natural philosophy, and con- 
sidered as subdivisions of that branch which 
Martin denominates geology, The process of 
investigation, however, pursued in these, you 
will find differing from that employed in the ma- 
thematical sciences ; since, in the former, you 
proceed from effect to cause, while in the latter, 
you advance from cause to effect. They depend 
almost wholly on memory, and, to be understood, 
require minute and habitual observation, which, 
by the way, I can assure you, becomes in the 
end, not only pleasing, but highly useful. 

You will commence with chemistry, perhaps 
the most important, and certainly the most use- 
ful, of all the physical sciences. It is intimately 
connected with natural philosophy, unfolds the 
various phenomena of nature, illustrates the ve- 
getation of plants, and gives to the useful arts 
their greatest power, and their highest excel- 
lence. Entering, as it does, into almost every 
thing connected with nature, it would be shame- 
ful not to have some knowledge of it, especially 
when that knowledge may be attained without 



136 COURSE OP CHEMISTRY 

much toil, and no loss of time. Chemistry has 
been vastly improved by the labours, experi- 
ments, and discoveries of the moderns, who have 
employed all their genius and bestowed their 
undivided attention upon it. To what higher 
point of perfection it is destined yet to attain, 
I am not able to anticipate ; but it has certainly 
advanced, since its origin, with a step both rapid 
and astonishing, and has now reached all the 
accuracy and correctness of a science. From 
the time at which it was confined in its signi- 
fication, to the mere art of working metals, or 
of making gold or silver, to the present period, 
its improvements have been constant and al- 
most innumerable, and its utility, of course, 
proportionably augmented. Chemistry was bor- 
rowed from the Greeks by the Arabians, who 
called it alchemy,*' and its professors alchemists, 
and who first introduced it into the west of Eu- 
rope. These alchemists, who have been long 
and severely satirized, conceiving that gold was 
a component part of all natural bodies, and ca- 
pable of being brought to a state of purity, 

* Alchemy is an Arabic word, and compounded of al (the,) 
and hernia, (excellent,) or the master-art. Prior to the intro- 
duction of this term, it was called chrysophoca, (fabrication of 
.gold.) Argyrop&as (fabrication of silver,) or pyrotechnic 
(art of fire.) 



AND MINERALOGY. 1ST 

laboured with great diligence to discover the 
means which would produce this change, and 
convert the baser metals into gold. This pow- 
er was called the Philosophers stone* — lapis phi- 
losophorwn, and many boasted that they pos- 
sessed it. In the tenth or eleventh centuries, 
when mankind were buried in the glooms of 
ignorance and superstition, it was not difficult 
to impose upon the credulity of an illiterate 
multitude ; and these men, and their pretended 
art, which they alleged to be a divine gift, 
were, of course, held in high estimation. But 
the low tricks which they practised to gain mo- 
ney from those who were simple enough to con- 
fide in them, and ihe facility with which the 
discovery of printing enabled the wits of the 
age to attack and expose their knavery, brought 
them into contempt, and the art, itself, into 
disrepute. About the fifteenth century, how- 
ever, it again arose with redoubled splendour, 
and acquired great celebrity under Paracelsus ; 
who, though his career was but short, and though 
he was himself an imposter, gave such an eclat 

* The Philosopher's stone, besides transmuting baser metals 
into gold, was to stop bodily infirmities, remedy all diseases 
incident to man, and to renew life. According to Friar Bacon, 
Artiphius preserved his existence, by these means, for 1025 
years. 

12 



138 COURSE OF CHEMISTRY 

to the science, that after his decease, many labo- 
rious men devoted their attention to its cultiva- 
tion, and contributed to its advancement. At 
length, appeared the once celebrated Beecher, 
who, casting off the shackles of alchemy, reduced 
chemistry to the form in which it now appears. 
For the last fifty or sixty years, however, it has 
made a much more rapid progress, and has been 
brought to a much higher state of perfection, 
than at any other antecedent period, and from 
its great and manifest utility in the arts and 
manufactures, it bids fair to become hereafter 
a subject of general interest, and attention to 
mankind. 

To acquire a correct knowledge of this useful 
science, you must attend the lectures of some 
able professor, and, if that be not convenient, 
read and make experiments yourself. Of the nu- 
merous treatises on this science, all that you 
need peruse and study, are, Conversations on 
Chemistry, Thompson's System, by Cooper, 
Brande's Manual, Henry's Elements of Experi- 
mental Chemistry, Davy's Chemical Philosophy 
and Agricultural Chemistry, and a work, entitled 
Que Thousand Experiments in Chemistry. These 
writers will point out to you the path you ought 
to pursue, and the experiments it will be neces^ 



AND MINERALOGY. 139 

sary to make, with a view to such a knowledge of 
the science as every gentleman of education should 
feel it his duty to possess. And the intimate 
connexion it has with natural philosophy, which 
you have acquired, and the facility which has been 
given to its attainment by the new nomenclature, 
will render its approach pleasing, and your pro- 
gress rather a source of delight than of toil. 

Let us now proceed to mineralogy, a branch 
of natural history which I am happy to find, has, 
of late, become an object of more inquiry and 
consideration than it iras hitherto been thought 
expedient to bestow upon it. It certainly is a 
very important one, and regarded in connexion 
with the useful arts, ought to be more highly 
esteemed, and more generally studied, than it 
now is. The difficulties under which it labour- 
ed, in its origin, the genius and assiduity of en- 
lightened men, have succeeded in removing, and 
what was once a chaos of confusion, has been 
reduced to a system so lucid and intelligible^ 
that it would not be hazarding much to say, 
that almost the meanest capacity can compre 
hend, and the feeblest memorj' retain it. It 
must indeed be admitted that there are some 
difficulties in this, as in every other science, 
but the chief obstructions in the way of its at- 






140 COURSE OF CHEMISTRY 

tainment, are the various and complicated prin- 
ciples or elements which often enter into the 
composition of bodies, and which cannot be 
known without being analyzed and decomposed* 
But with the knowledge which chemistry and 
the mathematics have furnished you, and es- 
pecially geometry and algebra, you will be en- 
abled to understand the different figures which 
chrystals assume, and to calculate, with some 
ease and certainty, the principles of their for- 
mation. Of mineralogy and chemistry, all that 
it may be necessary for you to understand, will 
be, to class and distinguish one mineral from 
another, to know the component parts and pro- 
perties of bodies, to be able to analyze them by 
tests, and to comprehend their nature,- affinities, 
and combinations, and the uses to which they may 
be applied. The first step 1 would recommend 
to you in the study of mineralogy, is to obtain 
access, if possible, to a large cabinet or collec- 
tion of minerals, without which, you cannot 
make any progress in the science. Read Phil- 
lips' Introduction to Mineralogy, and Conversa- 
tions on Mineralogy : familiarize your eye with 
their external characters — their shape, colour, 
lustre, transparency, &c, and with the dictinct 
characters of each species. Then endeavour to 
class and arrange them according to the system 



AND MINERALOGY. 141 

adopted by Cleveland, Jameson, or Hauy, whom 
you should read with care. The only instruments 
you will want, are a good convex lens, an electro- 
metre, magnetic needle, a pair of scales, a few 
acids and alkalies, and a hammer. With these, 
and some books, you will, in a short time, be 
able to analyze and determine the family of any 
mineral that may be presented to you, and, at 
length, to know not only the class and species, 
but the variety and name of a specimen, by a 
bare inspection of its external character. That 
part of mineralogy, however, which treats of 
rocks, and which belongs chiefly to geology, will 
require more of your attention and time ; be- 
cause it is less settled, and more difficult to be 
understood. It has, indeed, been greatly sim- 
plified by a judicious arrangement, the result of 
accurate observation and experiment, and which, 
though often disputed, has been at last generally 
adopted. This arrangement was introduced by 
Werner, and consists of — 1st, Primary; 2nd, 
Transition ; 3rd, Secondary ; 4th, Alluvial ; 
and, 5th, Volcanic formations. Werner's The- 
ory, called the Neptunian, from the agency he 
gives to water, and to contradistinguish it from 
the Plutonian, or that of Hutton, who admits 
both fire and water as agents, is founded on the 
belief that certain substances have been succes- 



142 course or chemistry, &c. 

sively deposited upon each other, according to 
the order Werner has developed. These two 
theories have been compared and illustrated 
with great eloquence and ability, by Playfair 
and others, whose works you must peruse. But 
to facilitate your attainment of this branch of 
mineralogy, you will pursue the plan I have al- 
ready recommended, in relation to the other 
portions of the mineral kingdom, namely : fa- 
miliarize yourself with the different species of 
rocks in a cabinet, and endeavour to become 
acquainted with their respective positions upon 
the earth, and their indications of the other 
minerals with which they are usually associated. 
After this, read BakewelPs Introduction to Ge- 
ology, Mawe's Familiar Lessons, and Faujas 
St. Fond, and Brande, whom you have already 
examined; and, having united this. knowledge to 
geography and the arts, and made yourself suf- 
ficiently acquainted with the mineral world, you 
may next proceed to the study of organic life, 
or the vegetable and animal kingdoms, which 
I will consider in my next. 

Adieu, 



LETTER X. 

OX A COURSE OF BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY 
My Dear Son : 



•Manibus date lilia pleni- 



Parpureos spargam flores. 

Among all the natural sciences, there is none 
so alluring and delightful as that of botany. It 
unfolds to its votary a scene of enchantment and 
beauty which nothing can surpass, and which 
leads him through the apparent difficulties by 
which it is surrounded, with a power so pleasing, 
that every inclination to resist is banished, and 
every toil becomes a pleasure. It is in the ve- 
getable world that nature seems to have display- 
ed her nicest touch and most delicate colouring. 
The variety, magnificence and ^beauty of this 
portion of her works, it would be impossible to 
describe ; and can only be relished by those 
whose taste and inclination lead them to the 
study of botany. To such, a source of almost 
unceasing delight is afforded, and that delight is 
increased in proportion as the mystery is unveil- 
ed : and the whole beauty of the vegetable king- 



144 BOTANV AND ZOOLOGY. 



dom, with all its rich, splendid, and magnificent 
drapery, is laid open to his view : 



-For who can paint 



Like nature ? Can imagination boast 
Amid its gay creation, hues like hers ? 
Or can it mix them with that matchless skill, 
And lose them in each other as appears 
In every bud that blows ? 

The science of botany, however, must be con- 
sidered on a more enlarged scale than that which 
limits it to a mere exhibition of physical beauty. 
Connected with medicine, agriculture, and the 
arts, its importance cannot be too highly appre- 
ciated, or too attentively considered. It directs 
our search for those plants which are suitable to 
the soil we wish to cultivate — it enables us to 
procure the most beautiful and interesting vari- 
eties, and to choose among the numerous tribes 
of vegetables that are spread over the surface of 
the earth, such as are the best adapted to our 
wants, and the most proper to decorate our 
dwellings, and to multiply our enjoyments. In 
religion and morals, this charming science has 
also its advantages. In contemplating the won- 
derful organization of plants, we cannot but ad- 
mire the wisdom of that matchless being, 

fl Whose breath perfumes them, and whose pencil paints.'' 



BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 146 

And a conviction of that wisdom must necessari- 
ly inspire greater love and warmer devotion. 
Its moral influence is felt by begetting simple 
tastes ; by infusing into the mind ideas of order, 
and into the soul, sentiments of benevolence and 
peace. 

Till the age of Linnaeus, botany had not the 
character of a science. Nothing but confusion, 
disorder, and difficulty existed, where harmony 
and beauty have since been made to reign. The 
genius of a Gesner enabled him to make some 
small advances towards a system. Caesalpin 
went still further, and Tournefort succeeded in 
producing one founded on the form of the Co- 
rola. But the discovery of a sexual union in the 
vegetable world was reserved for Linnaeus, who 
has been denominated, with peculiar propriety 
and justice, the father of botany; and on this 
marriage of plants, he has erected a system, 
founded upon the number and combination of 
the sexual parts, which not only from its clear- 
ness, but also from its fine poetical character, 
excites that enthusiasm which is so remarkable 
in those who have devoted themselves to this 
branch of natural history. He has cast around 
this science a charm so captivating and resist- 
less, that the apparent difficulties which arise 
N 



146 COURSE OF 

from the first view of its formidable nomencla- 
ture, are disregarded or despised, and the de- 
lighted student marches forward with a pace 
steady and progressive ; because his path is en- 
amelled with flowers, which delight his vision 
by the variety and brilliancy of their tints, and 
regale his scent with the deliciousness of their 
fragrance. 

I speak now of botany as a science,- compre- 
hending vegetable physiology, and a knowledge 
of the medicinal, esculent, and other uses of 
plants ; and not as a mere nomenclature or sys* 
tern of words. My object is to exhibit to you 
what I conceive the best plan to be employed in 
the acquisition of this science. The system of 
Linnaeus I have already mentioned : it is however 
due to the genius and perseverance of Bernard 
de Jussieu to state that the scheme which he has 
established suggested, however by Linnaeus him- 
self, has many eulogists and followers, who assert 
that he has rendered the science more easy and 
simple. It consists in exhibiting the natural re- 
lation which is found to exist among plants, and 
in uniting them into families, in which the pre- 
sence of one character proves that of many 
others, while their analogy points out the simili- 
tude of their qualitiesj 



i 



BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 147 

Thus the discoveries made by analysis are now 
confirmed by synthethis in such a manner that 
the individual who studies a few details may, by 
examining a small number of vegetables of differ- 
ent families, from a general idea of botany. The 
mere knowledge of the nomenclature of botany 
does not constitute a botanist. A man, says Ros- 
seau, may be well acquainted with this beautiful 
science without knowing the name of a single 
vegetable. Yet the knowledge of the nomen- 
clature will be, in some degree, necessary as an 
introduction, and may be soon acquired. A name, 
for example, is given to an object of sense; and 
though that name be foreign, it will easily be 
recalled whenever the same object is presented. 

The best and most easy plan to be pursued, 
according to a French writer,* in the acquisition 
of this science, after you have obtained a know- 
ledge of the principles, is to accompany a person 
who is acquainted with plants, into the country ; 
go with him into the fields, and groves, and gar- 
dens ; collect from three to four hundred plants ; 
examine and analyse them carefully, and pre- 
serve them in a herbarium. Read whatever has 
been written about them ; examine them fre- 
quently ; and their names, character, different 

* Deleuze. 



148 COURSE OF 

organs, number of species, forms, soil, propor- 
tions and uses will be impressed upon the me- 
mory. After this has been effected, determine for 
yourself about four hundred more according to 
the Linnasan method ; you will then be qualified 
to comprehend the principles upon which the na- 
tural families are established, to ascertain the 
characters which unite the genera of which they 
are composed, and to estimate the importance of 
those characters. You are now ready to enter 
into a larger field. Gather plants, analyse them, 
compare those which are new to you with those 
with which you are already acquainted, describe 
them as you find them in complete fructification ; 
in many this fructification will be similar ; unite 
them into genera, in effacing from your descrip- 
tions the common characters, which you write 
3part, and preserving the differences in order to 
distinguish the species. Compare, then, your la- 
bours with what has been done by skilful botan- 
ists, and never seek for the name till you have des- 
cribed the plant. 

You must accustom yourself to recollect the 
synonymes, in order to consult, in case of need, 
the authors that have spoken of the same species 
under different names. 



BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 149 

In informing yourself of the experiments which 
have been made to discover the irritability of 
vegetables, the action which the light, the heat, 
the influence of the air, water, sun, the phenom- 
ena of germination and of nutrition exercise up- 
on them, you must realise the most important of 
these experiments, and endeavour to confirm the 
facts, or to discover new ones, by such other ex- 
periments as you may deem necessary. You 
can then study the history of plants the most cel- 
ebrated for their beauty, their singularity, or the 
uses to which they may be applied. The study 
of grasses, and of Cryptogamous plants, should 
not be neglected. The mosses present, by the 
elegance and regularity of their parts, by the 
irritability with which they are endowed, by 
the means which nature employs to preserve 
and re-produce the species ; a chain of pheno- 
mena too curious and interesting to escape any 
ones attention. Two years will be sufficient to 
acquire such a knowledge of botany, as one dis- 
posed merely to know the classes and divisons, 
and to acquire exact notions of the principal 
phenomena of the vegetable kingdom may 
require. With such a knowledge of botany as 
I have mentioned, this science will be found 
more an amusement than a labour, and every 
day will unfold new charms and new beauties 
N 2 



150 COURSE OF 

till the whole vegetable world lies before you in 
all its splendour, magnificence, singularity, and 
elegance. 

The books in this science I would recom- 
mend to you, are not numerous. Begin by read- 
ing Barton's Elements, Martin's Rousseau, and 
Wildenow's Principles ; and after you have ac- 
quired a complete knowledge of these elements, 
Linnaeus' and Wildenow's Genera Plantarum, 
and Pursh's and Nuttall's North American Flora, 
Barton and Elliot's Botany, Curtis on Grasses, 
and a few other botanical works will be sufficient 
for your purpose. 

From the vegetable to the animal kingdom, 
the transition is easy, and I think you will find 
the one not less interesting and useful than 
the other. The philosophy of both you must 
and will soon understand, and, when you have 
traced the analogies which exist between these 
two kingdoms, and marked the structure, organs, 
growth, food, propagation, and decay of vegeta- 
ble and animal productions, you will see, and 
must be struck with, the extraordinary wisdom, 
perfection, and power of that being who has spo- 
ken them into existence. The various phenom« 
ena of animal life will enlarge your views of the 



BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 151 

Deity, increase the ardour of your devotions, 
and enable you to see, and feel how mean, and 
low, and contemptible, are the most splendid and 
masterly specimens of art, compared with the 
most minute and diminutive productions of him 
whose wisdom is ineffable, and 

Whose smallest works 

Exceed the narrow limits of our mind. 

This science, as might have been expected, has 
had many followers, whose enthusiasm has led 
them to eulogise it with an ability and eloquence 
calculated to excite our admiration, and to stim- 
ulate the most indifferent to study. Buffon and 
Lacipede stand pre-eminent as its advocates and 
admirers. The former of these may be read not 
only with great profit, but with much pleasure ; 
both from the great knowledge he displays, and 
the fine and captivating eloquence, he employs ; 
There is, however, one objection to him which 
you will soon discover, and that is that his theo- 
ries are too visionary, and his conclusions too rash 
and hasty. He was born for the study of nature, 
his mind was filled with poetical images and 
fine thoughts, and he never fails to paint with 
an exquisite pencil and the richest colours.— 
" The study of nature," says Lacipede,* " pro- 

* Lacipede Discours d'ouyerture du cours de Zoologies 



J52 COURSE OF 

duces that elevation of sentiment, that energy of 
character, that depth of reflection which give 
birth to virtue, and blunt the shafts of misfortune. 
Amidst deserts the most remote — solitudes the 
most savage — upon shores the most distant, do 
you experience that dreary loneliness which man 
dreads as death? Have you not nature before 
you ? Do you not understand her eloquent voice, 
proclaiming the wonders of the creation ?" 

The arrangement or classification of this branch 
of natural history, is very simple, and will be soon 
attained. It consists, according to Linnaeus, of 
only six classes; and the classification of Lin- 
naeus being the most brief, and at the same time 
comprehensive, has been generally adopted. 
These classes are again subdivided into orders, 
and these orders into genera and species; an 
arrangement very similar to that he has adopted 
in the vegetable kingdom. The classes are, 

1st, Mamalia, or animals, that succle their 
young, whose heart has two ventricles, and whose 
blood is red and warm, called viviparous. 

2nd. Aves, or birds, distinguished like the 
above, but with feathers, and are called ovipa- 
rous. 



BOTANlf AND ZOOLOGY. 153 

3rd. Amphibia, whose heart has one ventricle 
and one auricle, and whose blood is red and 
cold, 

4th. Pisces, or fishes, which have the same 
qualities as the preceding, but not the same vol- 
untary command of their lungs. 

5th. Insecta, or insects, of which the heart has 
one ventricle, the blood is cold and white, and 
the animals are furnished with antennae or feelers. 

6th. Vermes, or worms, the same .as the pre- 
ceding, with this difference that, instead of an- 
tennas, they have tentaculse. 

A very superficial and rapid glance at this 
subject will enable you to see the necessity of 
possessing some knowledge of anatomy, and 
particularly comparative anatomy ; a science but 
recently introduced, and of great importance in 
the study of zoology. This branch of knowledge 
I recommended to you while studying design. It 
will now be useful to you in enabling you to mark 
the essential characters of animals, their organiza- 
tion, habits, modes of life, climates, and the dif- 
ferent degrees of sagacity they possess. It is 
now, too, you will experience the utility and plea- 



154 COURSE OF 

sure resulting from your previous acquaintance 
with design and painting ; you can exhibit to 
the eye by a few strokes of the pencil, a more 
correct and accurate idea of any vegetable or 
animal production, than by a volume of oral, or 
written description. In the study of this branch 
of natural history, you will pursue the simple ar- 
rangement of its classes, commencing with ma- 
malia and terminating with vermes; obtain, if 
practicable, access to a museum ; take, at first 
a rapid survey of the whole ; then endeavour 
to distinguish the genera and species of animals, 
and finally acquaint yourself with all that relates 
to them ; such as their organization, habits, 
names, &c. For a beginner, perhaps the best 
work is Blumenbach's Manual, which, with suf- 
ficient fullness, will give him a correct notion, 
and furnish him with a comprehensive outline of 
this interesting science. After him, you must 
consult Buffon, Shaw, and Lacipede who, toge- 
ther with the aid of a personal inspection of the 
animal itself, when possible, will yield you every 
information on this subject it may be necessary 
to possess. But in the study of insects, diminu- 
tive and inconsiderable as they may appear, a new 
source of wonder and of admiration will be pre- 
sented to your mind. You will see that the 
same great and matchless being that gave life 



BOTANY AND ZOOLOGY. 155 

and wisdom to man, is still visible in the organi- 
zation of the meanest insect that crawls. The 
miscroscope will unfold to you new wonders in a 
world invisible to the naked eye, and exhibit the 
same exquisite perfection and excellence, in the 
most minute and diminutive, that are seen in the 
grandest and most majestic and unwieldy of crea- 
ted beings. Your imagination may range over a 
field of infinite extent and variety, and when fa- 
tigued with the toil and drudgery of your profes- 
sion, you can repose amid the beauties of nature, 
gaze on the rich and splendid colourings of her 
pencil, and elevate your soul, by the contempla- 
tion of the endless perfection and wisdom and 
variety she displays. 

Adieu. 



LETTER XI. 



ON A COURSE OF MORAL AND POLITICAL PHILOSO- 
PHY, PUBLIC LAW, AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. 



My Dear Son : 

Having now passed through the delight- 
ful regions of natural science, you may proceed 
to what is more immediately the object of mind, 
but, while you do this, I must caution you against 
involving yourself in the labyrinth, or losing 
yourself in the mazes of metaphysical subtile- 
ty and refinement. It is a science of great 
interest to the youthful mind, and is sometimes 
too apt to give it an improper bias, and to 
lead it into error \ but, grounded as you now 
are in the physical and mathematical or ex- 
act sciences, its effects cannot be very inju- 
rious, and its benefits may be considerable. — 
It will enable you to comprehend the nature 
and properties of mind, as distinguished from 
matter, and though it deals in abstraction, and 
its theories and hypotheses have sometimes been 
entirely visionary and ideal, it will enlarge 
your knowledge of man, and make you better 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 157 

acquainted with the phenomena of the human in- 
tellect. You need not wade through the absurd 
systems and unimportant controversies of Berk- 
ley, Hume, Malebranche, and Descartes ; they 
leave the mind worse than they found it — either 
on the precipice of scepticism, or in the abyss of 
delusion and error. It is of no essential impor- 
tance to know whether matter thinks, or thinks 
not ; whether the soul be distinct from the mind, 
or whether " this great globe, and all which it 
inherits," be real or imaginary — a dull reality, 
or a sickly dream ; such inquiries tend nei- 
ther to improve, nor invigorate the human 
mind, and only beget barren and unproduc- 
tive speculation. The kind of metaphysical 
knowledge which I should recommend to you, 
would be that which embraces the being and at- 
tributes of the Deity ; the natural powers and 
operations of the human mind, and the affections 
and passions of the human heart. In the course 
of your investigation into this subject, you will 
see the close and intimate union existing be- 
tween body and mind, and the necessity of 
knowing the one, in order properly to know the 
other. Of the physical organization of man, you 
have already a competent knowledge, and this 
will facilitate your march into the regions of in- 
tellect, and render your progress, not only more 
O 



158 COURSE OP MORAL AND 

rapid, but more useful and satisfactory. The 
course of reading on this subject need not be ve- 
rv extensive ; it will only be necessary to peruse, 
with attention, Aristotle,* Locke, t Stewart,! 
Reid, and Brown, and, if you please, Leibnitz, 
Hartley, Condillac, Kant and others of the 
French School. Scotland has been peculiarly 
fortunate in the production of able and eloquent 
metaphysicians, and it is to her we owe almost 
all the improvements which have been made in 
the philosophy of the mind, since the days of the 
illustrious Locke. The metaphysical science is 
of an almost unlimited range, and of very great 
utility in the legal profession, from the princi- 
ples it furnishes applicable to that science. It 
sharpens the mind, and if it does not make it more 
solid, it renders it at least more acute and inge- 
nious. Its necessary tendency is to throw the 
mind back upon itself, and to beget inquiry and 
investigation. Read then, with great care, the 
authors I have mentioned : reflect and meditate 
much, and do not waste your time in disputes 
about words, or suffer yourself to be seduced by 
hypothesis, however brilliant and ingenious. 

:•* Aristotle's Ethics. 

t Locke on the Understanding. 

t D. Stewart, Reid, and Brown's Philosophy. 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 159 

To intellectual, you will, of course unite the 
study of moral and political philosophy ; a sub- 
ject blended with, of equal interest and of su- 
perior importance to, the one I have just men- 
tioned. The importance of this science you 
will readily understand, from its subjects and 
character, inculcating, as it does, those prin- 
ciples which tend to make us virtuous and 
happy, and developing those rules of conduct 
which, both as individuals and members of 
society, we are bound to observe and prac- 
tice. It is of great antiquity, and has been the 
subject of deep and interesting inquiry in al- 
most every age of the world. Greece and Rome 
were distinguished for their philosophers ; and, 
to the former, we are indebted not only for the 
name of this science, but for one who, during a 
long succession of centuries, was considered the 
" secretary of nature," and the " prince of poli- 
ticians," and whose authority, in this department 
of knowledge, was felt and admitted wherever ci- 
vilization had extended, or science had diffused 
her light. It found its way through the gloom of 
monkish barbarism, and spread its influence amid 
the darkness of the middle ages. The ascen- 
dency of the philosophy of the Stagirite was, at 
one period of the world, almost as unlimited as 
Christianity is now, and but few presumed to 



160 COURSE OF MORAL AND 

doubt or dispute it ; but a more intimate know- 
ledge of the laws of nature, proceeding from the 
profound researches and important discoveries 
of modern philosophers, finally tended to subvert 
the parepatetic school, and to introduce a sys- 
tem founded upon religion, more true to nature^ 
and more consonant to reason. This system 
you will find amply unfolded in Paley's Moral 
Philosophy, Beattie's Elements of Moral Science, 
Adam Smith's Moral Sentiments, and our own 
countryman, S. S. Smith's Moral and Politi- 
cal Philosophy, with whose opinions and rea- 
sonings you should endeavour to make yourself 
particularly conversant ; but, before you do this, 
it will be necessary, first, to read over Enfield's 
History of Philosophy, Degerando and Stewart's 
Dissertations, which will afford you a general sur- 
vey of the rise and progress of speculative opin- 
ions, from the earliest times, and of the different 
and numerous systems of philosophy that have 
existed in the world. To these, you must add 
Aristotle's Ethics, Xenophon 1 s Memorabilia, 
Plato, Cicero's Offices, Seneca's Morals, and 
Plotinus. But of all the systems of morals that 
have been introduced, the most excellent, the 
most pure, and the most lovely, is that which is 
to be found in the sacred volume, to which I have 
already directed your attention, and with which. 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 161 

I hope, you' have made yourself acquainted.-— 
" In the philosophy of Aristotle," says Gillies, 
and, indeed, in all the ancients, "man is the 
judge of man — in Christianity the judge of man 
is God. Philosophy confines itself to the per- 
ishing interests of the present world ; Christian- 
ity, looking beyond those interests, takes a lof- 
tier aim — inspires the mind with nobler motives, 
and promises to adorn it with perfections worthy 
of its inestimably valuable rewards." The un- 
changeable precepts of the gospel, are the foun- 
dation of all human law, and of all human virtue 
and happiness. They prescribe to us our duties 
to God, to man, and to ourselves; and it is not 
hazarding much, to say, that they constitute the 
essence of human wisdom, and are, beyond dis- 
pute, the most infallible guides to present and 
eternal felicity. " The knowledge of things di- 
vine," says Theages Pathagorus, " and most 
honourable is the principal cause and rule of 
human felicity."* 

But you must remember, my dear son, that bare- 
ly to acquire a knowledge of the principles of 

* Apy.x 4* atrix 4 a K^v&vsvT/ rxs avQfUTuixz sv oxiy.i- 

Theag. Pythag, 
O 2 



162 COURSE OP MORAL AND 

moral science, is not the only end you should 
have in view — you must go further: you must not 
only understand, but be regulated by its precepts. 
The object and aim of all science, is to make 
men more useful, and, of course, more virtuous 
and happy, for knowledge ought not only to give 
power but happiness. The precepts you ac- 
quire, should be reduced to practice ; the rules 
of conduct and of action which philosophy pre- 
scnbes, ought to be realized. A mere ac- 
quaintance, however intimate, with the specu- 
lative opinions, and moral systems of men, 
will be of little service to you — they only tend 
to decorate the mind, without improving or 
benefiting the heart. It is the heart, there- 
fore, that must feel the influence of, and be go- 
verned by, the precepts of religion and morals ; 
all other systems are useless , because it is 
from the heart that all vice and virtue, all good 
and evil spring. And I assure y:>u, I should 
much rather see you an honest man, with a 
soul pure and upright, than one of the greatest 
philosophers that ever blazed on society with- 
out it. You will have many occasions, in your 
progress through life, to exercise the philoso- 
phy you are now studying, and to experience 
its efficacy, and the force and truth of the ad- 
?ice\J have given you* You will often see the 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C 163 

beauty and utility of the fine maxim of Epicte- 
tus, "bear and forbear much;" the necessity 
of living for others, as well as yourself, and of 
extending your usefulness as widely as possible ; 
and, when you have thus lived, you will, like the 
sun, after diffusing his heat and radiance through 
the earth, sink into the tomb in cloudless glory, 
conscious that you have done your duty, and have 
not lived in vain. Endeavour so to live, that you 
may never say, as a virtuous Roman emperor 
once did, " I have lost a day." The profes- 
sion you are about to adopt, is one which will 
call forth all your virtuous energies, and require 
all your circumspection and caution to avoid the 
snares of vice, by which you will be surrounded. 
It is a profession, I confess, not altogether favour- 
able to the practice of virtue, and will therefore 
cast additional brilliancy on the character of 
him who rises above the little chicanery and 
low arts of such as too often figure as " foment- 
ers of village vexation." In proportion to the 
resistance you offer to the attractions and allure- 
ments of vice, will be your merit and your hap- 
piness ; and, while many at the bar, are losing 
all moral and intellectual discrimination, by pro- 
miscuously defending the right and-ihe wrong, 
your judgment and heart, by adhering to the un- 
deviating principles of moral rectitude, will re- 



164 COURSE OF MORAL AND 

main uninjured, and your character rise in the es- 
timation and respect of all who hear your name. 

The elements of political, are intimately blend= 
ed with those of moral, philosophy, and, of 
course, must be attained at the same time.- — 
These have been touched on by some of the au- 
thors you have read.* It is essential, however, 
that you should take a more extended and com- 
prehensive view of the subject than they have 
presented ; and that you should acquaint your- 
self with the origin, nature, and objects of civil 
governments ; and the spirit, tendency, and scope 
of human institutions and laws. To this end, 
read carefully, the politics of Aristotle — "a most 
inexhaustible treasure," says D. Taylor, " to 
the statesman, the lawyer, and the philosopher." 
The Origin of Laws by Gouguet, the Spirit of 
Laws, by Montesquieu, who has been, with pro- 
priety, denominated " the prince of philosophi- 
cal politicians," the Review of Montesquieu, by 
Tracy, Locke on Government, Ferguson and 
G. Stewart's View of Civil Society. De la Croix's 
Constitutions, De Real's Science du Government, 
Bentham and Mably's Principles of Legislation, 
and De Lolme on the Constitution of England. 
But in ranging over the different constitutions 

*Paiey, S. S. Smith, &q.» 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 165 

and systems of government, which have existed 
in the old world, you must not neglect the one 
under which it has been your good fortune 
to be born ; and which, undoubtedly, stands 
" proudly eminent" above all that have ever 
been adopted for the amelioration of mankind 
and the security of the rights, liberties, and hap- 
piness of society. The constitution of the Unit- 
ed States, is a monument of human wisdom, and 
" an edifice of strength and majesty ; the union 
of its parts forms its solidity, and the harmony 
of its proportions, constitutes its beauty."* 
Make it, therefore, the standard of comparison, 
while engaged in analyzing the organization of 
other governments, and you will see, at once, its 
superiority and excellence. Its brevity, and pre- 
cision are not its least merit, and no one will find 
much difficulty in comprehending it. To render 
your knowledge of # jt, however, more perfect, I 
would recommend to you the Federalist and 
Letters of Pacificus, by Messrs. Madison, Ha- 
milton, and Jay, a work of great merit, which will 
unfold to you the whole design, scope, and bear- 
ing of this excellent system of government ; and 
the motives and intentions of its framers.— < 
There are other works, which will also enlarge 
your knowledge of the American constitution. 

* Deslandes sur l'Importance de la Revolution Americaine. 



661 COURSE OF MORAL AND 

and which must not he omitted : 1 mean, Tay- 
lor's Enquiry, the Appendix to Blackstone's 
Commentaries, by Tucker, and Sargeant's Con- 
stitutional Law. You may now, or after you 
have entered upon the study of the law, pe- 
ruse the decisions of the Supreme Court of 
the United States, on constitutional questions, 
which will give you an insight into the principles 
of its construction, and the legal difficulties that 
have, from time to time, arisen on the subject. 
To these, must be added " A Comparative View 
of the Constitutions of the several States," by W. 
Smith, of South-Carolina, which will close your 
labours on that head for the present. 

Having completed your course of moral and 
political philosophy, the next science in order is 
that of natural and public, or international law, 
which is equally indispensably to the lawyer, the 
statesman, and the politician ; and in this, as in 
the other branches of ethical science, you will find 
the same fundamental principle to exist, to wit: 
"live honestly, hurt no body, and render to every 
one his due." The observance of this precept 
constitutes the happiness of individuals as well as 
of nations, and forms the basis of moral science 
as well as of natural law ; and natural law is the 
true foundation of what is denominated the laws 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C 16" 

of nations ; quod naturalis ratio inter oranes ho- 
mines constituit, vocatur jus gentium. To the law 
of nature, therefore, together with that of reve- 
lation, as being the basis of civil or munici- 
pal law, which you are hereafter to practise, it 
is necessary you should pay great attention. 
You have already read the Offices of Cicero, 
which may be considered as the first elementary 
book on this subject, and will serve as an intro- 
duction to the study you are now to commence, 
To Cicero must succeed the great restorer of 
this science, Grotius,* who unfolds its principles 
and truths with much energy and clearness. 
Puffendorfft must next be read, and then the fol- 
lowing authors in the order in which they are 
given; Burlamaqui,]; Cumberland. § Rutherforth,|j 
Ward,1T De Wolf,** Martinet Du Ponceau,! j Byn- 

* Grotius on the Rights of War and Peace, 

+ Puffendorff on the Laws of Nature and Nations, with Bar- 
beyraes Notes. 

| Burlaruaqui's Principles of Natural and Political Law 

& Cumberland's Law of Nature. 

|| Rutherforth's Institutes. 

IFWard's Foundation and History of the Laws of Nations in 
Europe. 

**Baron De Wolf's Institutes of the Laws of Nature and Na- 
tions. 

it Martin's Compendium 

$% Du Ponceau's Translation of 1st B. of BynkershoeK 



163 COURSE OF MORAL AND 

kershoek, Chitty,* and Vattel.t The latter may 
be considered as the text book of the law of na- 
tions, and being constantly referred to by all, as an 
authority on questions of this sort, he should be 
read with great attention; and though, as Hobb'sJ 
very justly observes, the law of nations is the 
law of nature, applied to states or nations ; De 
Wolf and Vattel were the first who thought of 
treating the latter separately as a law peculiar 
to nations who are bound by certain moral du- 
ties and obligations which result from their act 
of association. On the distinction which exists 
between the law of nature and nations, some dif- 
ficulty and considerable disputation have arisen ; 
Justinian§ has defined the law of nature to be 
that which nature teaches to all animals, and the 
law of nations to be that which is common to the 
whole human family. Other writers not only 
define them differently, but differ in their opinion 
as to the origin of the latter; but with due defer- 
ence to those authors, I cannot think the ques- 
tion a very difficult one or indeed one of very 
great moment. I conceive they are alike based 
on the immutable principles of truth, justice, and 

* Chitty's Law of Nations. 
t Vattel's Law of nations. 
$ Hobb's Leviathan. 

# Justinian's Institutes. 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 169 

right; the rules and principles of the one result 
from natural reason, and those of the other from 
the common consent of nations : but the max- 
ims of the one may be applied to the other ; and 
the rights and duties which nature prescribes 
are common to both ; " the only difference, as 
Barbeyrac ob-erves, consisting in the mode of 
their application, which may be somewhat varied 
on account of the difference that sometimes hap- 
pens in the manner in which nations settle their 
affairs with each other." I cannot, while on this 
subject, refrain, en passant, from expressing some 
little surprise, that so few men of genius have 
written on this branch of science. The laws of 
nations seem yet to be complicated and unsettled, 
and the subject, it must be confessed, has not 
been handled in a manner its importance de- 
serves, or in a way to render it either very lucid 
or interesting. 

Connected with the subject of international 
law, is maritime or admiralty law which, ac- 
cording to Azuni, " rests on the general basis 
of the law of nature and nations, on the posi- 
tive regulations of the conventional law of Eu- 
rope, and on those usages established by ne- 
cessity." A knowledge of this branch of legal 
science is of high importance to the lawyer as 
P 



170 COURSE OF MORAL AND 

well as the politician, and cannot be dispens- 
ed with ; and, as it is so connected with the pre- 
ceding subject, it will be better to commence it 
now than hereafter, for the sake of preserving 
order in your course. The best, and perhaps 
the only, elementary work you need now occupy 
yourself in reading, is Azuni,* who gives a very 
comprehensive view of maritime jurisprudence, 
and points out every necessary source of informa- 
tion on the subject. In addition to this writer, 
the next work I would recommend at present 
is the first volume of Rayneval,* who will 
make you acquainted with the litigated doc- 
trine of search, contraband, right of blockade, 
freedom of navigation, &c. ; and hereafter, if it 
should be found necessary, you can embrace a 
wider scope of reading, and examine Wheaton's 
Digest, Brown's Compend, Peter's Admiralty 
Decisions, &c. To maritime law must suc- 
ceed the study of that code which has formed 
the basis, or substratum, of the common or 
municipal laws and civil constitutions of most 
of the European nations ; I mean the Corpus 
Juris Civilis, or body of Roman law, the pro- 

* Azuni on the Maritime Law of Europe. Johnsons Edit 
t Rayneval dela Liberte des mers. 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 171 

duction of civilization and philosophy, and de- 
nominated, with much truth, the ratio scripta, 
or code of written reason. You cannot, if it 
be your wish to become a statesman or a law- 
yer, be ignorant of this excellent code. In- 
deed it is essential, that you, though an Ameri- 
can, should know it 5 because it furnishes certain 
axioms and undeviating principles which will 
hereafter be highly useful in demonstrating the 
most abstract questions of jurisprudence. A 
French writer has asserted, with some de- 
gree of novelty, in relation to this code, " that 
justice has never fully developed her myste- 
ries, but to the Roman juris-consults,*' and 
indeed too much cannot be said of its gene- 
ral excellence. With the history of this code, 
Gibbon has already made you acquainted, with 
his usual ability and eloquence. You have 
now to examine and study the code itself; 
from which you will derive great and perma- 
nent benefit. This body of Roman law is 
composed of four parts ; the Institutes, the Di- 
gests or Pandects, the Code and the Novels, 
and should be studied in the order in which they 
are given, by those who wish to become well ac- 
quainted with the science of jurisprudence. But 
it will not be necessary for you, or any Ameri- 
can student, to dive thus deeply into the subject; 



172 COURSE OF MORAL AND 

your range of reading may be confined to Tay- 
lor's Elements, part of the first and second vol- 
umes of Domat's Civil Law, Pothier's Pandects 
and Obligations,* and Cooper's Institutes of Jus- 
tinian, which will furnish you with all the know- 
ledge it may be desirable for you to possess in 
this science, and smooth your path to the study 
of the municipal laws of England and America. 

The last science, my dear son, I would re- 
commend to your attention, before you enter 
upon your professional studies, is that of polit- 
ical economy. This has, until very lately I am 
sorry to say, been almost wholly neglected, 
and though its importance and usefulness have 
been long felt and understood by politicians 
and statesmen in all parts of the civilized world, 
it has not received that attention it deserves. — 
In our own country the science of political 
economy has but just risen from its slumber, 
and but few ever thought of devoting to it, as 
a science, any portion of their leisure. It is 
now beginning, however, as it unquestionably de- 
serves to be, a very fashionable study in this, as 

* Pothier's Treatise on Obligations is a work of such sterling 
snerit and usefulness, and such genuine excellence as to deserve 
not only the particular attention of the lawyer, but of every 
well-informed member of society. 



POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, &C. 173 

in most parts of the civilized world, and will per- 
haps soon rival chemistry or botany in the num- 
ber of its disciples, though it may not in the 
force of its attractions. I look upon it in the 
light of a moral science, and as one that is indis- 
pensable to him who wishes to make a figure, 
or to be useful in the councils of his country. 
In this science, however, there are various con- 
flicting theories which it will perhaps be proper 
for you to understand, and which you may, with- 
out much difficulty, master. These theories will 
be found in the different writers on this subject, 
to wit : A. Smith,* Lauderdale,! Say.i Ricar- 
do,§ Malthus.jl Ganilh,^! Tracy,** Foronda,tt 
and Storch.tJ all of whom you should read, and 
if practicable, they should be read in the order 
I have given them. Of Smith's Wealth of Na- 

* Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations. 

t Lauderdale's Inquiry into the Nature aud Origin of Public 
Wealth. 

I Say's Political Economy. 
§ Ricardo's Principles of Political Economy, 
(j Malthus's Principles of Political Economy. 
IF Ganilh's Inquiry into the Various Systems of Political 
Economy. 

** Detutt Tracy's Treatise on Political Economy. 
7t Forondo Cartas de la Economia Politica. 
i% Cours D'Economie Politique, par H. Storch: 

P 2 



174 COURSE OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY, &C 

tions, a work of great labour and ability, you 
will find an analysis by Joyce, which may serve 
as a pocket companion, and which will give you 
the whole essence of that author ; many of whose 
principles and positions have of late been warm- 
ly contested. The Essay on Population, by 
Malthus, is a classic in this science, which must 
not be neglected, and which will demand much 
of your reflection ; and though many of his opi- 
nions, also, have been attacked with some vi- 
gour and eloquence, they have not yet been 
shaken, and are not likely, I think, to be ever 
subverted by a truer or a better hypothesis. 

I have now brought you, my dear son, to the 
close of your preparatory studies, and thus pre- 
pared, you will find but few obstacles and impe- 
diments in your march to eminence, both at the 
bar and in the senate. You must and will be 
distinguished and useful, if you have but com- 
mon powers of mind, in any walk of life you 
may think proper to choose : for knowledge 
thus varied and united to genius, cannot fail 
to give distinction* 

Adieu. 



LETTER XII. 



ON A PROPER DIVISION OF TIME, 



My Dear Son: 

There is perhaps nothing more important than 
a proper and judicious distribution of time : it is by 
this distribution that your progress in science and 
general knowledge will be facilitated, and your 
course of study rendered both more useful and 
pleasant. Be not alarmed at the apparent mag- 
nitude of the undertaking; the end is within your 
reach, and possible to be attained. Remember 
the maxim of the unfortuuate, but highly gifted, 
Chatterton, that a man, by abstinence and perse- 
verance, may accomplish whatever he pleases, 
and the no less remarkable saying of one of 
the sages of antiquity, fuA/rs to pay, all things 
are possible. You must expect to meet with 
some difficulties, to encounter some obstructions, 
and to experience some trials ; it is not al- 
ways that labor est voluptas ; but these you will 
in time, surmount, and when you have reached 
the temple of science to which you have directed 
your exertions, you will look back with astonish^ 



176 DIVISION OF TIME. 

ment, that the small obstructions you met with 
had power to check your career for an instant. 

Possunt quia posse videntur. 

" Every man, 5 ' says Dr. Johnson, " who pro- 
poses to grow eminent, should carry in his mind 
at once the difficulty of excellence and the force 
of industry ; and remember that fame is not con- 
ferred but as the recompence of labour, and that 
labour, rigorously continued, has not often failed 
of its reward." Never cease to reflect that time 
is precious ; that the loss of a moment is a loss 
that cannot easily be supplied, and that, while 
young, to waste your moments in idleness or 
dissipation, is like casting away your prospects 
of future fame, usefulness, and felicity — -fugit 
irreparabile tempus. By ajudicious employment 
of your time in youth, you will experience its 
incalculable advantages in maturity and old age, 
by the range of thought it will give you, and the 
extent of knowledge )ou will acquire ; I wish you 
to be studious not only to be eminent in your pro- 
fession, but useful to society. Knowledge should 
never be limited ; it is always useful, and will not 
fail to give you a rank and standing among men 
of sense, that no other extraneous advantage can 
or will give. By enlarging your sphere of obser- 
vation, accumulating sources of information, and 



DIVISION OF TIME. 17? 

multiplying your lights on all subjects of hu- 
man knowledge, it is reasonable to suppose. your 
ascent to eminence will be less difficult ; your ca- 
pacity to be useful, more extended, and your 
sources of enjoyment more diversified and capa- 
cious. What Cicero required of an orator, I 
require of a lawyer, to have omnium rerum mag- 
narum atque artium scientiam. Youth is the pe- 
riod of improvement ; let it not be neglected or 
suffered to " run into waste.*' Labour, however 
irksome at first, will become habitual and plea- 
sant, and repay you tenfold for the imaginary 
privations you may suffer, or the loss of sickly 
and transitory pleasures you may have sustained. 
It is time enough to commence the practice of law 
at twenty -five; you need not be too eager to enter 
upon your professional duties ; be well prepared 
and grounded before you commence them, and 
your march will be easy and your path pleasant. 
It is the misfortune, if not of all, at least of 
most of the young men of this country, who in- 
tend to make law their profession, to begin the 
study and practice too early ; to begin before 
they have acquired the necessary preparatory in- 
formation, or obtained that wide scope of know- 
ledge so eminently calculated to render them dis- 
tinguished members of the bar. The inevitable 
consequence of this precipitancy, is at best but a 



178 DIVISION OF TIME. 

mere tolerable mediocrity ; while ninety-nine out 
of a hundred do not reach even that mediocrity, 
and are seen haunting piazzas, and lounging about 
taverns asking for business, and dwindling into 
that degraded species of being which Burke has, 
with peculiar aptness, denominated "the fomen- 
ter of village vexation." Avoid, on all occa- 
sions, the society of the idle, the profligate, and 
the abandoned : by associating with men of this 
class, you will not only lose much of your time, 
but will acquire a moral taint by collision, and 
habits of extravagance and dissipation, that may 
lead to the most pernicious and fatal consequences. 
In your moments of relaxation and leisure, asso- 
ciate only with the wise and the good, with those 
quibus vivere est cogitare. You will receive more 
benefit, and more gratification, from the conver- 
sation of an hour spent in the company of lite- 
rary or scientific men, than you would from a life 
devoted to the society of the ignorant, the profli- 
gate, and the vicious. In conversation of this 
kind, knowledge is condensed and concentrated, 
and you receive, in a short time, what has per- 
haps required the labour and research of years to 
obtain. But in this, as in reading, always exam- 
ine and think for yourself: it is by thinking much, 
that much is acquired, and not by rushing over 
the innumerable pages of innumerable volumes. 



DIVISION OF TIME. $$&. 

or by hastily, and without reflection, adopting 
the opinions, or retaining the theories, of the most 
celebrated and the most wise of those whom you 
read, or with whom you converse. "Thinking," 
says Aristotle, " is the business of the gods :" 
the greatest men have become eminent mainly by 
this method. "Burke," says a writer in the 
Quarterly Review, (and every other able thinker) 
" has been formed not by a parsimonius admea- 
surement of studies to some definite future ob- 
ject, but by taking a wide and liberal compass, 
and thinking a great deal on 'many subjects, with 
no better end in view, than because the exercise 
was one which made them more rational and more 
intelligent beings." " The principal use of read- 
ing to me," says Montaigne, " is that by vari- 
ous objects, it rouses my reason and employs my 
judgment." 

The division of time, like the division of la- 
bour, is an immense saving, and greatly facilitates 
one's progress in study. It is inconceivable how 
much can be acquired, in a short space, by a ju- 
dicious arrangement of time, and a proper and 
reiterated application to study. The connexion 
which exists among the sciences is so close and 
intimate, that when you know one, you will 
find but little difficulty in knowing the others : 



180 DIVISION OF TIME. 

they not only mutually aid and explain, but they 
correct each other. " The knowledge derived 
from them all," says the Reviewer I have already 
quoted, with great truth, " will amalgamate, and 
the habits of a mind versed and practised in them, 
by turns will join to produce a richer vein of 
thought, and of more general and practical ap- 
plication, than could be obtained by any single 
one ; as the fusion of the metals into Corinthian 
brass gave the artist his most ductile and perfect 
material." Always remember to proceed in re- . 
gular order ; never throw too many seeds into 
the mind at once, lest they should prevent each 
other from germinating, and do not suffer your- 
self to be diverted from your course of study by 
any new work, however high in reputation, be- 
fore the proper time, lest it should produce, as 
it will, confusion in the mind, and render your 
knowledge less solid and perfect. I have, how- 
ever, no objection to your reading, occasionally, 
a work of fancy, either in poetry or prose, for 
the purpose of restoring the tone of your mind, 
and of relieving the toil of abstract science ; 
because^ if kept in a state of continued tension, 
the intellect is apt to lose its power, and to sink 
into imbecility. But the best relaxation is refin- 
ed and cheerful society, and gentle exercise. 



DIVISION OP TIME. 1 8 I 

the former exhilerates the mind, while the latter 
invigorates the body. 

I think the following perhaps the best appor- 
tionment of time you can adopt : give six or eight 
hours to sleep ; one to devotion and the perusal 
of religious books ; four to exercise, amusement, 
and society ; seven to study ; two to Composition, 
or recording your observations on men and books, 
and retracing what you have read ; and two to 
the wants of life. Botany and mineralogy will 
be found eminently calculated to afford you plea- 
sant and delightful exercise, as well as exquisite 
intellectual gratification. Your other studies will, 
of course, render you more sedentary ; but, 
while engaged in them, do not neglect to walk or 
exercise, and amuse yourself, when practicable, 
in the most agreeable and rational manner you 
can devise — music, painting, and poetry, will be 
found to supply the want of many other recrea- 
tions. 

A sound body is necessary to constitute a sound 
mind, and a proper attention to diet, and a due 
degree of exercise, will give this soundness and 
vigour to the body, and enable you to prosecute 
your studies with more relish and greater advan- 
tage. In entering upon your professional studies, 

Q 



182 DIVISION OF TIME, 

(and it is better to do this in the office of a law- 
yer, where you will have the practice united to 
the theory,) be cautious with whom you asso- 
ciate, and do not sutler yourself to be led astray 
by the allurements of pleasure, or the fascinations 
of the world. Always bear in mind, that there 
is no solid happiness without virtue, and no true 
dignity without learning. I wish you not only to 
be what Cicero defines an orator, vir probus e?i- 
cendi peritus, but a good man, capable of giving 
council to, and of defending your oppressed and 
unfortunate fellow-creatures, when your services 
shall be demanded. A good character will be of 
infinite advantage to you in your profession, as 
well as in ordinary life ; it is, in fact, essential to 
your success. Be careful then to preserve it as 
unstained and spotless as the virgin snow ; and, 
whatever may be attempted by petty envy, or 
malignant calumny, it will still beam on the sur- 
rounding world, like the glorious effulgence of 
the sun, after having been for a time darkened 
by the interposition of another planet. Avoid, I 
beseech you, while at the bar, the paltry sophis- 
try, the low tricks, and the despicable chicanery, 
which are too often resorted to by men of that 
profession ; they only defeat themselves, ren- 
der those who practice them insignificant and 
contemptible, finally, destroy all confidence in 



DIVISION OF TIME. 183 

their probity, and beget distrust, detestation, and 
neglect. 

Before I close my numerous, but, I trust, not 
unpleasant letters of instruction,! would admon- 
ish you, while pursuing the course of legal read- 
ing that will be pointed out by the person 
whose office you may enter, always to compare 
and examine for yourself; to consult the author- 
ities which may be referred to, and retain the 
principles that are intended to be illustrated and 
established. You will thus make yourself ac- 
quainted with jurisprudence as a science, be 
able to develope its intricacies, trace its mazes, 
and apply its principles to the various sources of 
litigation and dispute ; and your mass of previous 
acquirements can be brought to play upon its 
details, and be made to give to them a luminous- 
ness and beauty at once elevating, instructive, 
and delightful. With the torch of science, the 
law, like some of the celebrated grottoes of Eu- 
rope, enveloped in darkness and gloom at their 
entrance, will unfold a spectacle of magnificence 
and splendour, and render your professional ca- 
reer glorious, profitable, lofty, and gratifying. 

Farewell. 



A MEMOIR 

ON THE 

Domestic or Private Lives of the Romans, 



—— »e»©|0!®®«* 



LETTER I. 



My Dear Sou : 

You tell me you have just completed your 
course of ancient history, and have been par- 
ticularly pleased with that of Rome. I am not 
in the least surprised at this preference, though 
Greece has* in the minds of many, stronger 
claims to interest. Italy has indeed, from first 
to last, been a wonderful nation, and the enthu- 
siasm and sorrow her melancholy story excites, 
will I am sure be felt while the world remains. 
Every thing, therefore, appertaining to a coun- 
try, once so illustrious and still so dear to the 
recollections of man, must possess an interest w 
are unable, if we were willing, to subdue. An 
admirer of the Roman people is not satisfied with 
the bare recital of their national greatness and 
misfortunes, of their heroism, their virtues and 
their vices ; he wishes to follow them into their 
Q 2 



186 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

secret recesses, to become acquainted with their 
private actions, manners, and customs, and to see 
them in all the attitudes of life. It will be my 
business, my dear son, in the following letters to 
furnish you with some portion of this information 
in as brief a manner as the nature of the subject 
will admit, and to give you a true picture of the 
private life of those men in whose calamities you 
feel so warm a comrnisseration, and for whose 
character you entertain so strong a predilection. 

I will begin with the division of time among 
the Romans, that you may see how each portion 
was employed by that extraordinary people.—- 
The day and night were each divided into twelve 
hours, a method originally borrowed from the Ba- 
bylonians, who communicated it to the Greeks 
and the Greeks to the Romans. This unequal di- 
vision which made the hours of the day longer 
than those of the night, in summer, and shorter 
than those of the night in winter, was introduced 
in the year of Rome 460, and continued till the 
reign of Adrian, when a more correct distribu- 
tion was established. The day was again subdi- 
vided into four parts, and the night into four 
watches. The first part comprehended the 
three first hours of the morning, the second the 
next three, corresponding with our noon, the 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 187 

third embraced from twelve to three, and the 
tourth and last from three to six, or the setting 
of the sun, which completed their twelve hours. 
Their watches were arranged so as to corres- 
pond with the twelve hours of night, like the 
parts of the day ; the first watch commencing at 
sun set, and the last terminating at sunrise. 

You will understand that, in the following ac- 
count of the private life of the Romans, I do 
not mean to include that of the idle and the 
dissipated, of the youth, thoughtless of the fu- 
ture, or the aged, disgusted with the present, 
but to speak of those who divided their time 
between public duties and salutary recreation, 
and whose occupations tended alike to the 
service of the state, and to the amusement of 
their private hours. The manners and cus- 
toms of men are chiefly fashioned by their 
occupations : Among the Romans, agriculture 
became, at an early period, a general employ- 
ment, and was highly honoured and respected 
during the reign of their kings, and the ex- 
istence of their republic. It was from among 
this class, you will recollect, Cincinnatus, At- 
tilus, Dentatus, &c. sprang, and it was to the 
fields they were indebted for their most distin- 
guished patriots and statesmen. Romulus him- 



188 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

self held agriculture in such high estimation, that 
he instituted twelve priests, called arvales, from 
arva, the fields, whose business it was to offer to 
the gods the first fruits of the earth, and to so- 
licit an increased abundance ; and Ancus Martius 
recommended to the people, as next to religion 
in importance, the culture of the soil and the 
care of their flocks. The most illustrious names 
In Roman history were given in consequence of an 
excellence their possessors had attained in the 
art of raising particular cattle, or of cultivating 
particular plants.* In the country no distinction 
existed, and the titles of nobles and plebeians, 
which prevailed in the city, were merged in the 
general name of labourer. In those ages of sim- 
plicity, the Romans were all labourers, and the 
labourers all soldiers. It is to this union the fine 
sentiment of patriotism and virtue, so frequent- 
ly displayed in their history, may be ascribed ; 
because, as Cicero justly observes, a country life 
may be regarded as the school of simplicity, 
temperance, and justice. This simple and mor- 
al life produced by agricultural occupations, con- 
tinued until the introduction of luxury into the 
state, that bane of national and individual virtue. 
The extension of their empire by conquest led 
them to adopt the vices, and to practise the fool* 

* As Lentulus, Piso, Cicero, Cincinnatus, Serranus., &c* 



LIVES OT THE ROMANS. 189 

eries, of the nations they had conquered. Sim- 
plicity gave way to magnificence and splendour, 
palaces were erected, and the most brilliant 
dresses, the richest viands, and the most costly 
and beautiful furniture were sought for and pro- 
cured. Even their religious worship was tainted 
by the general extravagance and corruption which 
now prevailed, and instead of offering up their 
adoration to the gods in the former simplicity of 
their hearts, and according to the lowliness of 
its original institution, they spared no expense in 
erecting temples, which they filled with the finest 
images and statues,* and seemed to try how far 
they could carry the pomp and grandeur of their 
ceremonies. Asia, conquered by Rome, conquer- 
ed Rome in turn, by the vices she communicated, 
the wealth she bestowed, and the taste for re- 
finement and pleasure she infused. From the 
rich and the great this moral distemper descend- 
ed ; and among the lower ranks of society, in- 
dustry was despised, frugality scorned, and the 
hours of the day which had formerly been occu- 

* Numa, according to Plutarch, prohibited the Romans from 
representing the Deity in any corporal shape, as not being an 
object of sense or liable to passion, but invisible, incorruptiblej 
and discernable only by the mind. For the first 170 years,, 
therefore, no images were admitted into the temples. 



190 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

pied in some useful pursuit, were now spent in 
indolence and pleasure. 

After these few preliminary remarks, 1 will 
proceed to show you how those citizens spent 
their lives, who as I have already stated, divided 
their time between their public duties and pri- 
vate amusements, because of such only do 1 think 
it necessary to speak. This class of Romans, 
therefore, devoted the first hour of the day, com- 
mencing at sunrise, to the duties of religion — a 
custom which should be followed by all nations 
anxious to preserve their happiness and virtue. 
It is a duty we owe, my dear son, to the God who 
made us, to offer him our first thoughts, and so- 
licit his aid and protection through the day. 

Falsely luxurious will not man awake 
And springing from the bed of sloth enjoy 
The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, 
To meditation due and sacred song. 

The temples, at this period of the day, were 
open to all : those who went tendered to the 
gods their vows and adorations, and those who 
did not go, discharged their religious duties in 
their private chambers, by sacrifices and offer- 
ings. The latter was generally pursued by the 
rich and the great, and we find that Severus had 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 191 

a chapel in his palace, where he had placed the 
statues of the good emperors, with those of his 
ancestors, and of Jesus Christ, Abraham, and Or- 
pheus, whom he equally honoured and worship- 
ed. The services of the morning were dedi- 
cated to the celestial, and those of the evening 
to the infernal gods. The multiplicity of their 
wants, the number of gods who represented 
those wants, and to whom they addressed them- 
selves for assistance, and the ceremonies with 
which their devotions were accompanied, often 
prolonged their time beyond the first hour of the 
day. These devotional exercises were very for- 
mal and regular : the priest with his head veiled, 
to prevent the sight of evil omens, stood erect in 
the temple with a book in his hand, and pro- 
nounced the prayers of each in the order they 
were to be recited. In pronouncing their pray- 
ers, they put their hand to their mouth, and ad- 
vanced towards the images of their deities whose 
altars they touched, and whose knees they em- 
braced, because the knees were considered as 
the seat of piety. These religious duties were 
terminated by making an entire circle ; but they 
never seated themselves until they had recited 
the whole of their prayers, lest they should be 
considered as deficient in respect to the gods. 
The services of religion, however, did not oc* 



192 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

cupy the attention of all, and those early hours 
of the morning were employed by many in pro- 
moting their own interests, by paying court to 
the great. Romulus had introduced into the 
state a division of ranks which he afterwards en- 
deavoured to unite by a kind of reciprocal de- 
pendence, and mutual interest. Every plebeian 
selected his patrician, or patron, of whom he be- 
came, what was then denominated, a client. 
These patricians stood, in the place of a fa- 
ther, whose duty it was to watch over the 
welfare of their clients ; to guard them from y 
imposition and oppression ; and, in short, to 
act for them in all respects as a parent would 
act for his children. In return for these fa- 
vours, they were obliged to render their pa- 
trons every service in their power, and to give 
them personal and pecuniary aid whenever their 
necessites should require it. In process of time, 
when Rome became more polite and polished, and 
the distinction between poverty and wealth had 
become much more marked, tho' the same usage 
remained, the same feelings no longer existed, 
and what was in its original institution, a contin- 
ued reciprocity of good offices on the part, both 
of the protector and the protected, became, in 
the end, a fashionable ceremony, in which the 
pride and haughtiness of the one, and the baseness 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 193 

sycophancy, and adulation of the other, were 
equally manifested. Those who were or wished 
to appear attached to persons of distinction, 
thought it their duty to visit them about the time 
of rising, and bid them good morning. » The citizen 
paid this duty to the magistrate, the magistrate 
to those in higher authority, and these again to 
others still more elevated. Thus they ran about 
the city, from house to house, bidding its in- 
mates good day, till the first hours of the morn- 
ing were consumed ; and they had no further 
visits to pay. You are perhaps curious to know 
how this morning duty was performed, and what 
were the dress and ceremonies employed on 
those occasions. In my next I will endeavour 
to satisfy you. 

Adieu. 



R 



LETTER II. 

My Dear Son : 

The salutations of the morning, which I men- 
tioned in my last, were made in a white robe, 
called the toga alba ff this robe was a dress of 
ceremony, and peculiar to the Romans. It was 
semi-circular in its form, and served as a cover 
to the head, to shelter it from the rain and sun. 
In saluting their patrons, the clients used a ce- 
remony somewhat similar to that employed in 
their religious duties. They advanced towards 
those they were to salute, touched their mouth 
with the hand, and uncovered their head as a 

* The logawas a woolen robe which covered the whole body; 
close at the bottom, open at the top, and without sleeves — it 
was white, and worn only by Roman citizens. This robe had 
various denominations according to its colour, and the age and 
rank of the wearer, viz : the toga alba ; toga pulla, or atra } 
used in mourning ; toga prcetexla, being bordered with purple, 
and worn by magistrates, priests, and young men under seven- 
teen years of age ; toga picta, orpalmata, worn by triumphant 
generals ; toga virilis, or pura, worn by young men above se- 
venteen years of age. Besides the toga, the Romans wore a 
white woolen vest, called tunica, which was placed below the 
toga, and fastened round the waist by a girdle, which kept it 
tight, and which also served as a purse. In the latter ages of 
Rome, a kind of surtout was thrown over the toga, called la- 
cerna, which was fastened with clasps, but was finally lard 
aside by order of Augustus* 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 195 

mark of respect to the patron, whom they con- 
sidered themselves bound to honour and obey.— 
All this, however, was done without any inclina- 
tion of the body, or any genuflexion whatever, 
which was deemed, till long after the ruin of 
the republic, degrading to the dignity of a Ro- 
man citizen. It was the custom of these citi- 
zens, who assembled to perform the ceremony 
of salution, to meet in the vestibule of the pa- 
tron, which was usually ornamented with the 
statues and busts of his ancestors. Here they 
amused themselves till he had arisen and exhi- 
bited himself to them; or, till they understood 
it was not his wish to receive them. If, how- 
ever, he left the house publicly, they flocked 
around his carriage or litter, displaying the ut« 
most zeal, and using every exertion to convince 
him of their respect and attention.* This could 
not but be highly gratifying to his feelings, and 
must have added not a little to the indulgence of 
his vanity. The daily recurrence of these morn- 
ing levees, ^called by Pliny, officio ante lucana 
were no doubt very troublesome to the vi- 

* Those who openly favoured candidates, were distinguished 
by the names of salutatores, deductores, and seclatores. The 
first saluted them in the morning, and took their leave ; the 
second accompanied them to the forum, and the third attended 
them wherever they went, 



196 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

sitors as well as the visited, and we find the 
epigramatist Martial, complaining that he had 
called five mornings in succession at the house 
of a Roman knight, and had not the pleasure 
of seeing him. "I see," says he, "how it is; 
Oh, Afer ! you do not wish to receive my 
salutation of long life to you, so I bid you die, and 
farewell."* You will easily perceive, my dear 
son, that this usage had a tendency to beget ser- 
vility and baseness on the one side, and pride and 
splendour on the other ; and, towards the decline 
of the Roman Empire, you may discover this 
originally simple and virtuous ceremony, assum- 
ing a character of magnificence, calculated, in^ 
deed ? to gratify the rich and great, but at the 
same time, to corrupt, delight, and astonish the 
lower orders of society. To make it more strik- 
ing and splendid, the patron or lord exhibited him- 
self, as a spectacle in every part of the city, with 
a numerous retinue of litter-carriers 5 t preceded 

* Martial, Lib. 9. Ep. 8, 

f The Sellae & lecticae were chairs or sedans sometimes open 
and sometimes covered. The sellae had a small pillow, and 
the lectioae^ a mattress to recline upon. They were carried 
by slaves dressed in a dark or red penula, and borne on their 
necks or shoulders ; the number of slaves varied from two to 
eight. The lecticae had four feet to support it,~ which were some- 
times made of wood, and sometimes of silver or gold. They 
were introduced towards the end of the republic* 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS, 197 

and followed by slaves, freedmen,* and clients ; 
and all who pleased to attend, were compensat- 
ed, that the crowd might be more numerous and 
imposing. Avarice and poverty caused even 
those in the higher ranks of life, also to appear 
and swell the retinue of the great ; for which, 
as a reward, they received provisions and money, 
called sporhda, from the basket in which they 
were delivered at the door, to the client. Juve- 
nal has severely animadverted on these harpies, 
who seized thus greedily upon the bounty, which 
it was customary to bestow on the poor, 

" But since our knights and senators account 
To what their sordid begging vails amount, 

* Slaves and freedmen. The former were made so by being 
taken in war, by way of punishment, or by being born so. — 
The master had an absolute power over them, and could either 
scourge or put them to death at pleasure. 

Freedmen were of three kinds : 1st, Such as were born 
free, (ingenui.) 2ndly. Such as were bom of parents that had 
been made free, (libertini. ) And, 3rdly, such as had been freed, 
er had made themselves free, (liberti.) Slaves were freed in 
three ways, per censum, per vi?idictum, and per testamentum. 
They were manumitted in the following manner : The master 
placing his hands upon the slave's head, said to the consul or 
praetor, "I wish this man to be free," e rnanu emittere. The 
praetor laid his rod upon his head, and pronounced him free. 
A cap was then given to the slave in token of liberty, and 
his name entered upon record. 
R 2 



198 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

Judge, what a wretched share the poor attends, 

Whose whole subsistence, on those alms depends: 

Their house-hold fire, their raiment, and their foodj 

Prevented by those harpies ; when a wood 

Of litters thick, beseige the donor's gate, 

And begging lords and teeming ladies wait 

The promis'd dole. 7 '* Dryden. 

These duties of religion and morning saluta- 
tions, of which we have been speaking, generally 
consumed the two first hours of the day. But 
though these were the occupations of the ma- 
jority, they were not those of the entire mass 
of Roman citizens. Men of letters, merchants, 
and persons of business, employed those hours 
in a manner which they conceived more condu- 
cive to their interest, amusement, and edifica- 
tion. The third hour was ususlly spent in busi- 
ness, except when religion had consecrated the 
day to repose, or the comitiat or general assem- 
bly, claimed their attendance. u The third 
hour," says Martial,! u is occupied by brawling 

* Juvenal—Sat. 1, 90. 

i The Comitia was a general assembly of the people, and was 
of three kinds : the curiata, instituted by Romulus when he 
divided the people into thirty curiae ; the cenluriata, instituted 
t?y Servius Tullius, who divided the people into one hundred 
and ninety-three centuries, and the tributa, also instituted by 
Romulus, when he divided the people into tribes., 

% Martial, Book iv. Ep. 8 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 199 

pleaders," but whenever a trial occurred, those 
who were neither pleaders, advocates, judges, 
nor parties, attended from curiosity as spectators 
and auditors ; and according to Cicero, during 
the existence of the republic, the people assem- 
bled to set on the judges themselves. These 
trials were held in different places, sometimes in 
the temples, sometimes in the basiliccej but 
most frequently in the forum.\ On those oc- 
casions a numerous concourse assembled, influ- 
enced by various motives, some came as parties, 
some to assist the parties, and others from mere 
curiosity and pleasure. The eloquence of the 
public speakers drew around them then, as it 

t The basilica were large and spacious halls, erected around 
the forum, and designed for the judges, centumviri, to determine 
causes, and for the lawyers to receive clients. They were adorn- 
ed with columns and porticos, and were very magnificent. 
These basilicse from their shape, were afterwards easily con- 
verted into christian churches, and have long been used for that 
purpose. 

\Forum Romanum. This was a large oblong open space 
between the Capitoline and Palatine Hills, and surrounded 
with arched porticos, basilicse, temples, theatres, &c. In this 
and other fora the assemblies of the people were held, justice 
was administered, and public business transacted. There was 
but one forum under the republic, Julius and Augustus Csesar 
added two others, and Domitian began a fourth, which was 
completed by Nerva. The most splendid one, however) was 
that built by Trajan. 



200 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

does now, crowds of people eager to have their 
ears charmed, their passions roused, and their 
feelings gratified, by the powers of the orator. 
If the cause were of a public nature, a still great- 
er crowd collected, because each citizen con- 
ceived himself interested in the public weal, and 
in the issue of the trial. This interest resulted 
from the circumstance, that the provinces were 
considered as the inheritances of the Roman peo- 
ple, from which, as from a patrimonial estate, 
they drew their support and maintenance. — 
When, therefore, a proconsul or prsetor was to be 
arraigned and tried for peculation or fraud, the 
citizens assembled in great numbers, and by 
their presence stimulated the judges to perform 
their duty with fidelity, and without bias. But 
when no public business was to be transacted, 
and no public criminals or defaulters were to be 
tried, a circumstance, which by the way, rarely 
occured, after the Roman Empire had been en- 
larged by territorial acquisitions, the Citizens still 
repaired to their usual haunts to discuss the con- 
duct of their magistrates, whom they freely cen- 
sured or applauded according to their merits or 
defects. " In those days of liberty," says Taci- 
tus, " actions alone were punished, and not 
words ;" and this remnant of their freedom con- 
tinued till the reigu ot the brutal and savage Ti- 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS, 201 

berius, who, to prevent all inquiry into his own 
turpitude, made words, dropt in thoughtlessness 
or in the confidence of friendship as criminal as 
actions. Horace speaks of another mode of 
spending the early hours of the day, when no 
subjects occurred in the city of Rome for discus- 
sion. News then as now, was eagerly sought for; 
and, as great interest was felt in the affairs of the 
provinces, the citizens were anxious to know 
every thing that happened in them. Thus 
speaks Horace: 

*' Should any rumour without head 
Or tail, about the streets be spread 
Who ever meets me gravely nods 
And says, " as you approach the gods 
It is no mystery to you 
What do the Dacians mean to do? 
Indeed I know not. " How you joke 
"And love to sneer at simple folk !'' 
But vengeance seize this head of mine 
If I have heard or can divine. 
Then, prithee, where are Caesar's bands 
AJlotted their debenture lands ?'* 

Francis Horace. 

On other occasions, when a distinguished ma- 
gistrate arrived from any of the provinces, the 
Roman citizens hastened from the city to meet 
and conduct him to his dwelling, and thus show 
him all the respect and attention in their power* 
This was also done, when a magistrate departed 



202 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

from the city to govern a province, or take com- 
mand of an army ; and when a friend was going 
into a strange country, either on business or for 
improvement, they usually accompanied him 
as far as they could, to soften the miseries of de- 
parture ; and before they left him offered, in his 
presence, prayers to the gods for his safe and 
speedy return. If it were known that an illus- 
trious exile had been recalled, and was on his way 
home, they likewise hastened to meet him with 
the same degree of eagerness, that some repara- 
tion might be made for the injustice and injury he 
had sustained. The celebrated Cicero informs 
us that when he returned from the exile into 
which he had been driven by the tyranny and 
fears of his enemies, the whole road from Brun- 
dusium to Rome, was lined with people from all 
parts of Italy, to pay him respect, and to evince 
the pleasure and delight they felt at his return. 
"Rome herself," says he very poetically, "seem- 
ed almost to start from her foundations, that she 
might advance to embrace her preserver. And 
such was'the reception she gave me that not on- 
ly men and women of all kinds, ages, and ranks, 
of every fortune, and of every place; but even 
the walls, the dwellings, and the temples of the 
city, seemed to wear an expression of joy. "* 

* Cicero's oration against Piso. 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS, 203 

Those who were otherwise disposed, and not 
quite so indolent, employed themselves different- 
ly according to their respective ranks and situ- 
ations in life. The knights were engaged in re- 
gistering treaties and contracts ; and candidates! 
for offices of honour and profit, in soliciting 
votes. The latter passed through the most pub- 
lic parts of the city, and were accompanied by 
their relations, friends, and clients, and even by 
senators and magistrates of the highest rank, who 
recommended them to all they met. On the 
part of such as were soliciting office, it was ne- 
cessary to be extremely circumspect and polite 
to those on whom they depended for elevation. 
To those who were gifted with extraordinary 
powers of memory, it was not difficult to call ev- 
ery one they met familiarly by name ; but as this 
could not be done by all, it was usual for per- 

f They were so called from a white robe (toga Candida) 
which they wore. Cicero says they endeavoured to gain the 
favour of the people by going round the houses, by shaking 
hands with those they met, and by addressing them in a kind 
and tender manner. In addition to the nomenclators, the can- 
didates were accompanied by persons, called dednctores who 
were dependents and friends, by those called divisores, from 
their dividing money among the people, by those called inter- 
pretes, who bargained with the people for their votes, and by 
those denominated sequestres, who held the money promised to 
to the people. 



204, DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

sons to walk on the left of the candidates, call- 
ed nomenclators, who named to them such as 
passed, that they might thus be furnished with 
their names, and sirnames, without being obliged 
to burden their memory with them. 

The place where the third, fourth, and fifth, 
hours of the day were generally spent, was in 
the great square or forum , which was ornamented 
with shops, basilicas, porticos, and other edifices, 
erected for the public convenience, and for the 
despatch of public business. 

There, as might be expected, the Roman peo- 
ple often assembled as to a place of general ren- 
dezvous, and passed the time in conversation, 
caresses, and protestations of friendship and ser- 
vice. Into this society young men were not ad- 
mitted, till they had attained the age of seven- 
teen, when they assumed the toga virilis, or 
manly robe, and were thence forward consider- 
ed as members of the state. This ceremony, 
also, was attended with a festival, and of course 
consumed some time. At the end of the ban- 
quets, or repasts, which were given on those oc- 
casions, the toga pretexta, or purple bordered 
robe, was removed, and the toga virilis put on; 
the familjj kindred, and friends of the youth then 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 205 

accompanied him to the capitol to offer to the 
gods sacrifices and prayers as the first fruits of 
manhood ; after which they conducted him to 
the public square, and introduced him to the 
people as a citizen and a man. He was now 
considered as belonging to the state, and could 
enter into any business, either public or pri- 
vate, as his inclination might lead him. 

These various pursuits and occupations em- 
ployed the Roman people till the sixth hour, 
which corresponds with our mid-day or twelve 
o'clock ; they then returned to their dwellings to 
dine,* where they afterwards reposed from the 
fatigues and services of the morning, and where 
I must now leave them for the present. 

Adieu. 

* This meal was called prandium, and was very light and 
easily prepared. There was no formality observed at this 
meal, it was taken alone or in company, standing or sitting. 



LETTER III. 



My Dear Son : 

I have endeavoured to show you, in the 
preceding letters, how the first six hours of the 
day were spent by the Romans in the different 
periods of their government ; and though 1 have 
been intentionally brief, I believe I have omitted 
nothing that was interesting or important. I 
must now request you to accompany me through 
the remainder of the day, which I will strive to 
make as agreeable to you as possible. 

The hours which succeeded dinner, were usu- 
ally spent in whatever conduced to amusement, 
relaxation, or pleasure. During the existence 
of the republic, the first six hours of the day 
were consecrated, by those who devoted them- 
selves to the service of their country, or the 
benefit of their family, to labour and the drud- 
gery of business. Some few, indeed, extended 
the period of labour, even to the tenth hour, or 
our four o'clock : But such instances were rare, 
and were only exhibited by virtuous magistrates, 
who devoted themselves to the care of the pub- 
lic welfare, or by zealous orators who conceiv- 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 207 

ed themselves responsible for the safety of those 
whose defence they had undertaken. The great 
mass, however, pursued nothing but what might 
afford them tranquil pleasure, or rational amuse- 
ment, or what would conduce to the health and 
exercise of the body, or the relaxation or delight 
of the mind. The principal amusements of the 
Romans, during the after part of the day, or 
from dinner to supper-time, consisted in walking, 
bathing, and in various innocent and healthy 
games and exercises. The first of these was a 
favourite recreation and amusement at all pe- 
riods of the Roman republic : In the early ages 
when simplicity held the place of magnificence, 
the stream and the grove were the -usual haunts 
of those who wished to relax the mind, or to in- 
vigorate the body. This exercise was most 
commonly performed on foot, but sometimes it 
was taken in a litter or carriage ; hence the one 
was denominated ambulation and the other ges- 
tatio. To the Romans, as well as to all other 
people whose feelings have not been corrupted 
by too much luxury and refinement, nature pre- 
sented an aspect of loveliness and beauty, and 
the babbling brook, the verdant landscape, the 
dark and solemn grove,and all the charms of wood- 
land and mountain scenery, were in a high degree 
relished and admired. The temperate climate, 



208 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

the warm sky, and the rich and varied landscapes 
which Italy has always presented, it may easily 
be imagined, did not tend to lessen their love of 
what was beautiful, either in nature or art. And 
the promenade which, while it gratified the sen- 
ses, invigorated the body, could not but be a 
source of high satisfaction and delight to men 
thus placed in a region of beauty, and thus gifted 
with deep sensibility and feeling. But as they 
advanced in wealth and refinement, the simplici- 
ty of nature, began to lose its charms ; a love of 
magnificence and splendour took possession of 
the mind, and instead of the grove and the lawn, 
beautiful and spacious porticos, and galleries or 
covered walks were erected, for public use or 
private convenience in which all who pleased 
might exercise themselves in walking. These 
porticos, or galleries, built at great expense, and 
with uncommon elegance, were sometimes join- 
ed to public edifices, such as temples, thea- 
tres, &c. and sometimes to private buildings or 
palaces. They consisted of one or more rows of 
marble columns, which most frequently supported 
superb and magnificent arches or vaults, and 
were adorned and beautified with the finest sta- 
tues, paintings, and other productions of art, that 
could be obtained. The sides contained a num- 
ber of windows, which were shut with a pre- 



LIVES OF vTHE ROMANS. 209 

cious stone, the lapis specularis, more transpa. 
rent than glass, and which in summer, were 
opened to the north to admit the breeze, and in 
winter to the south to let in the sun. The rich, 
after the conquest of Carthage, laboured to tran- 
scend each other in the splendour of these edi- 
fices, and you will find the poets and the histori- 
ans alike complaining of the prevalence of this 
passion. 

Balnea sexcentis et pluris Porticus, in qua 
Gestetur dominus quoties pluit anne serenum 
Expectet, spargatve luto jumenta recenti ? 

Juvenal, sat: 7. 

On sumptuous baths, the rich their wealth bestow, 
Or some expensive airy Portico ; 

Where safe from showers, they may be borne in state; 
And, free from tempests, for fair weather wait. 

Driden". 

Of these porticos the most extensive and mag- 
nificent were those of Pompey, Augustus, and Ne- 
ro; that of Pompey was considered the coolest 
and most pleasant walk in the whole city, and 
was thence denominated by the poets Pompia 
umbra. The Portico which Augustus erected 
around the temple of Apollo was supported on 
columns of porphyry, and ornamented with the 
statues of the fifty daughters of Danaus — and the 
most exquisite paintings of the first masters— and 
S2 



^10 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

those of Nero were each 3,000 paces long, and 
from that circumstance called portions milliarim* 
Besides these, there was almost an infinite number 
of others, both public and private, which served 
to adorn the city and to render the people luxu- 
rious and effeminate. It would not be at all ha- 
zardous to assert that the wealth which had been 
acquired by the plunder of the world, and which 
was thus squandered upon ornamental and magnifi- 
cent structures, was the prime cause of the decay 
and ultimate ruin of the Roman empire. For as 
jFrancis very justly remarks, the excesses of ex- 
travagance and luxury, to which it led, vitiated 
the minds, corrupted the understanding, and broke 
the resolution of a people not less glorious for 
their spirit of liberty, than for their conquest of 
the world. 

In these charming and delightful retreats, the 
first hours of the afternoon were usually spent by 
those who liked the exercise of walking, or who 
delighted in the pleasures of rational or amusing 
conversation. The Athenians, too, you will recol- 

*The Romans had besides their private porticos attached to 
sheir houses in the city and country, subterranean porticos or 
grottos to cool themselves in the summer— which were called 
Crypto porticus, 

^Francis" 1 Horace note Lib: 2 Ode 15. 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 211 

lect, took great pleasure in these walks or porti- 
cos, which they called stoa — and in which one of 
their Philosophers, Zeno, established his schools, 
whose disciples were from that circumstance, af- 
terwards called stoics. 

If in those walks conversation began to lag or 
grow fatiguing, another resource was at hand in 
the splendid and extensive libraries connected 
with the porticos or covered galleries, of which I 
have been speaking.* To those the literary and 

*Libraries. These were very numerous— both public and 
private, and consisted of volumina or rolls of parchment, which 
gave rise to our word volume. These volumes were composed 
of several sheets united together, and rolled upon a stick, called 
•umbilicus. This stick only was to be handled. The outside 
of the volume was called/rtm?, and the ends of the stick, horns, 
which were handsomely carved and adorned with silver, ivory, 
and sometime gold, and precious stones. The whole volume 
when extended was often fifty yards long, and one and an half 
yards wide. The most ancient material for writing, according 
to Pliny, was palm leaves ; the inner bark of a tree was af- 
terwards used, called Viber by the Latins, and (3t(3\os by the 
Greeks. There was another mode of writing used among the 
ancients, which was to write on tables of wood, covered with 
wax. On these they wrote with a bodkin or style of iron, from 
which our word style is derived. The next material employed, 
was the Egyptian papyrus, which superseded all others for 
a time, till Eumenes, king of Pergamus, introduced the per 
gamena or parchment, which continued to be used, until paper 
was invented. 



212 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

scientific lounger resorted, when tired with walk- 
ing, and employed his moments of leisure in 
study, reading, or literary conversation. In 
the collection of books many of the wealthy 
Romans were as curious and liberal as the mod- 
ern literati or bibliopole — and certainly more 
generous in the use to which they applied them. 
Lucullus is said to have collected, at a vast ex- 
pense, a large library of the finest copies of the 
most valuable works which, according to Plu- 
tarch, was thrown open to all — and to which the 
Greeks resorted as to a retreat of the muses, and 
spent entire days in moral, philosophical, and 
literary disputation. 

The Roman youths, and those who felt the 
vigour of manhood, instead of strolling through 
the spacious porticos, and enjoying the peaceful 
pleasures they afforded, spent the hours of the 
afternoon in the Campus Martius, and in those 
exercises that were calculated to render them 
more vigorous and better fitted for the painful du- 
ties of a military life. It was there they learnt 
to handle the spear and the bow — to manage the 
horse — to fling the quoit— and to practise all the 
other gymnastics that could gratify the youthful 
mind, or give vigour and activity to the human 
body. Of those shorts or games the most common, 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS, 213 

as well as the most ancient, was the Troja or Lu- 
cius Trojce ascribed to Ascanius, the son of iEne- 
as* which consisted of various and difficult evolu- 
tions on horse-back, intended to prepare the 
youth for more important and dangerous contests 
when called out in the defence of their country. 
Virgil thus finely describes this exercise : 

l( At once they start and spur with artful speed, 
Till in the troops the little chiefs divide 
The close battalion : then at once they turn 
Commanded back ; while from their fingers borne 
Their hostile darts aloft upon the wind 
Fly shivering: then in circling numbers join'd 
The manag'd coursers with due measures bound, 
And run the rapid ring and trace the mazy round. 1 ' 

It has been conjectured, with a great deal of 
probability that these sports give rise to the justs 
and tournaments of the days of chivalry — and 
from their striking resemblance in almost every 
particular, we cannot but believe the one an imi- 
tation of the other. This exhibition of juvenile 
dexterity and skill often attracted, during the 
hours of which I am now speaking, the more aged 
citizens of Rome who felt greater pleasure, thpugh 
exposed to the sun and dust, in witnessing these 
feats of the rising generation, than in strolling 
through the delightful walks and splendid porti- 

*,Enead7, 102. 



214 DOMESTIC Oil PRIVATE 

gos of Rome. There was, however, another 
source of amusement, which was generally pre- 
ferred to all the rest, and which afforded both 
exercise and diversion. This was partaken by 
all ranks, and was called ludus pilae* or game 
of balls, an amusement to which Cato and Au- 
gustus are said to have been particularly ad- 
dicted. 

The first three hours of the afternoon were 
spent in the amusements and exercises just men- 
tioned, and others which I do not think it necessa- 
ry to describe. At three o'clock according to our 
mode of computation, and nine according to 
theirs, each citizen repaired with all possible haste 
to the public or private baths, to refresh the body 
and enjoy the luxury they afforded. To these 
baths, and their objects and uses, I shall in my 
next call your attention. I have now transcend- 
ed the limits of a letter, and must bid you for 
the present, 

Adieu* 

*These were of four kinds — ■ 

I. Pila trigonahs— so called because the players were pla- 
ced in a triangle. 

II. Follis, or folliculusy which was filled with wind. 

III. Paganicttf which was stuffed with feathers, and was less 
than the follis, but heavier. 

IV. Harpastuni) which was the smallest of alL 



LETTER IV. 

My Dear Son : 

In my last. I promised to give you some ac- 
count of the baths of the Romans, as connected 
with the subject with which I have undertaken to 
make you acquainted. I now hasten to fulfil my 
engagement, and will endeavor, briefly, to exhib- 
it to you their antiquity, the magnificence with 
which they were constructed, the uses to which 
they were applied, and the times at which they 
were frequented. The origin of baths may be 
traced back to the remotest antiquity. In the 
heroic ages of Greece, and in the earliest peri- 
ods of the world, especially in warm climates, 
the use of the bath was very common. In these 
ages of simplicity, and comparative barbarity, 
men and women bathed together without dis- 
tinction, and without the consciousness of inde- 
cency. You will find examples of this in Homer 
and Moschus,* who describe virgins, often of the 
highest rank, as waiting on the heroes of antiqui- 
ty in the bath, and performing such services 
as they required, with perfect innocence, and 

*Hemer's Odyss: VI. Moschus Idyll: B. v. 31. 



216 DOMESTIC OR PRIVATE 

without a feeling of indecorum.* But these 
were rather the haths of nature than of art. The 
brook, the river, or the ocean, were resorted to 
for the purpose of cleansing the body, and of ren- 
dering it healthy and vigorous. In process oi 
time, art was called in to the aid of nature, and 
spacious and stately edifices were erected, to 
gratify the taste and luxury of a more refined and 
polished age. The conquest of the world intro- 
duced into this, as into every thing else, great 
magnificence and splendour ; for in the first ages 
of Rome, the bath was but seldom used, except 
to keep the body clean, and this was done in the 
Tiber, or such other places as nature present- 
ed, without expense, parade, or inconvenience. 
This simplicity, however, so well suited to re- 
publican manners, yielded at last to the excessive 
refinement and luxury which the increasing 
wealth and greatness of the empire produced, 
and which were exhibited more in the construc- 
tion and ornaments of the baths, than in any other 

*Tbe beautiful Polycasta, the daughter of Nestor led Telem- 
achus to the Bath ; washed his body, and anointed it with her 
own hands ; and Pisistratus and Telemachus, on another oc- 
casion in the palace of Menelaus were conducted to marble 
basons, where a bath was prepared and were washed, anoint- 
ed with oil, and covered with rich garments by the hands of 
beautiful female slaves. 



LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 217 

object whatever. Mascenas, is said to have been 
among the first to establish warm baths or thermes 
at Rome. But the difficulty of procuring water, 
retarded for some time, the establishment of these 
public and private conveniences, and it was not 
till the four hundred and forty-first year of the 
city, that an acqueduct was constructed by Ap- 
pius Claudius, and the water brought from Tus- 
culum to Rome. This successful undertaking 
tended in a short time to multiply the number of 
aqueducts, and to increase the facilities of erect- 
ing baths, and we find at last no less than eight 
hundred and sixty public, and eighty-two pri- 
vate ones established at Rome. It was not till 
the reign of Augustus that much expense was 
bestowed, or munificence displayed, in the erec- 
tion of those edifices which have since, even in 
their ruins, astonished the world. According to 
Marcillinus, they equalled whole provinces in 
extent, and their splendour was unrivalled bv the 
most costly palaces. They contained porticos 
— walks — groves — halls, and a variety of apart- 
ments for the purposes of bathing, undress- 
ing, anointing, &c* In their construction, the 

* The balnea or thermes consisted of four separate chambers, 
besides the hypocaustum or furnace. These were called, 

First. Laconicurn, which was a small vaulted chamber, 
situated close to the ftunace, and which, from its excessive 

T 



218 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

most beautiful and precious marbles were em- 
ployed, and which were ornamented with pillars 
and figures of jasper, alabaster, and porphyry.-— 
The floors and ceilings were of mosaic work ; the 
apartments were filled with the delicious perfumes 
of Arabia, and artificial cataracts were formed 
by the waters which were received from the aque- 
ducts, and which fell into cisterns covered with 
silver, and flowed through pipes of the same met- 
tal, into different parts of the edifice. Seneca 
declared that the baths of plebeians were rilled 
from silver pipes, and that the freedmen walked 
on gems. What extravagance and luxury ! But 
of all these baths the most magnificent were those 

heat, was used only by the lazy, infirm and debauched, and, 
such as did not partake in the exercises of the palaestra. 
It was called by the Greeks 'ssvpiotvOnpov, by the Romans, La- 
conicum, or cella calida, by Seneca, sudatarium ; by Cicero 
assa, and by Vitruvius, calidarium. 

II. Tepidariutri) which was the most magnificent chamber of 
the bath ; and so built, as to be moderately warmed by the 
furnace, and to receive the whole influence of the sun. It was 
in this apartment the company were rubbed down with the 
strigiles, or scrapers, before they were anointed. These scra- 
pers were made either of ivory or metal, and sometimes of sil- 
ver and gold. 

III. The calidarium.) which was so situated as to receive all 
the advantages of light and heat from the sun. 

IV. The Frigidarium^ which was a chamber for cold bath- 
ing, and built near the calidarium. All these chambers communi- 
cated with each other by passages. 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 219 

of Titus, Caracalla and Dioclesian; the latter it is 
said employed forty thousand christian soldiers in 
the erection of his thermes, and afterwards when 
the work was completed, caused them to be put 
to death, through hatred to their religion. All 
these splendid and costly buildings were erected 
to conciliate the favour of the people, for whose 
use and accommodation- they were principally 
raised, and who were privileged to enter when 
they were open, and to use at pleasure, the warm 
— the cold — or the vapour bath, without ex- 
pense. The baths of powerful and opulent in- 
dividuals, were also proportionably superb, and 
always placed near the dining chamber, that 
they might be the more conveniently used, be- 
fore supper, according to an existing custom. 
To these thermes, or public baths, were attached 
a number of servants or slaves, who were dis- 
tinguished by the respective duties they perform- 
ed, and paid according to the nature of those du- 
ties, some being appointed to heat them : some 
to anoint and perfume those who bathed : oth- 
ers to take care of their clothes and the like. 
Both sexes, though it was sometimes prohibted, 
and sometimes allowed, ultimately used the bath 
together,* with this difference only, that the 

* This is still practised in many parts of Russia and Lapland 
See Clarke's Travels in Russia. 



220 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

men and women were waited upon by those of 
their respective sex. 

I now come to the uses to which these baths 
were applied. Some frequented them for health, 
some for convenience, but most for pleasure, 
alone. It was believed that the bath conduced to 
health by opening the "pores and assisting diges- 
tion, and we are told by Juvenal,* that the Ro- 
mans, when they found their stomachs over-load- 
ed, repaired for relief to the bath, which usually 
produced the effect they desired. Indeed, their 
utility has been admitted by the most eminent 
physicians of all ages, and it is to be regretted, 
that public establishments of this kind are not 
more numerous in our own country. Experi- 
ence has demonstrated that many diseases such 
as rheumatism, colds, influenzas, nervous af- 
fections, and many other disorders which pro- 
ceed from the want of perspiration ; have been 
not only prevented but cured, by the proper 
and judicious use of the bath. But in addition 
to their power of restoring perspiration and pro- 
moting digestion, they possess another advantage 
in refreshing and cleansing the body— an object 
for which they were frequently resorted to by 
the Romans, to whom it was rendered more ne- 
cessary, from their union with the gymnasia and 

* 1st Satire, 



LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 221, 

palestrae, in which the body, exhausted with exer- 
tion and covered with dust, required the cleans- 
ing of the hath, and the rubbing and anointing 
of their limbs which always followed it, as indis- 
pensable to health and renewed vigour. The 
thermes or baths, however, were more the re- 
sort of those who pursued pleasure than those 
who sought health and cleanliness. It was there 
such persons who may readily be supposed to 
have formed the great mass, constantly repaired 
to enjoy the agreeable refreshment, the delicious 
warmth or coolness, the pleasant collations, and 
the amusing conversation, these places were cal- 
culated to afford. The poets, too, according to 
Horace,* were not backward in frequenting these 
haunts of the luxurious, those 

Vaulted baths, that best preserve the sound, 
While sweetly floats the voice in echos round, 

to recite their verses to advantage and to obtain 
the meed of approbation ; nor were they less 
resorted to by literary men who often held their 
assemblies there, and employed themselves in 
reading or hearing others read, and in prosecu- 
ting their literary labors. 

The usual hour at which the Romans repaired 

* Horace, Sat. 4, Lib, 1. 

T 2 



222 DOMESTIC LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 

to the baths, both public and private, was at two 
o'clock in the afternoon in the summer, and three 
in the winter — the hora octava et nona of Pliny, 
which were called the bath hours, and made 
known by the sound of a bell, called the tintina' 
hulum. At the sound of this signal, all amuse- 
ments were instantly dropped, and every one de- 
sirous to enter, proceeded in haste to the differ- 
ent thermae, lest he should be too late to enjoy 
the warm bath ; or what was almost equal to a 
privation of this pleasure, be obliged to bathe in 
cold water.* 

Redde pilum, sonat aes Thermarum, ludere pergis? 
Virgine vis sola lotus abire domum. — Martial. 

After having sufficiently enjoyed this luxury 
which they so eagerly anticipated, and so highly 
relished, their bodies were rubbed with a pumice 
stone, and anointed with oil, perfumed in the most 
exquisite manner. The time thus consumed 
brought on the hour of supper, or what we should 
denominate dinner, to which they immediately re- 
paired, refreshed and invigorated, to participate 
in another source of enjoyment not less necessary 
if not more luxurious and delightful. 

* For an interesting account of the mode of bathing practised 
among the Turks, see Savary's Letters on Egypt. 



LETTER V. 



My dear Son : 

We have at last arrived at the supper hour 
of the Roman citizen, after having followed him 
through all the different occupations, pursuits, 
and pleasures in which he was engaged in the 
preceding hours of the day ; 1 will now endea- 
vour to conduct you into his supper chamber or 
dining room, and to exhibit the nature of the enter- 
tainment which he there enjoyed. In the early 
ages of Rome, as I have already shown, frugality 
and temperance constituted the most prominent 
virtues of the Roman character. Their ordinary 
food consisted of milk and vegetables, which they 
cultivated with their own hands, and which they 
ate in their own simple and humble habitations. 
Even in the year of Rome 462, no great progress 
had been made in the sumptuousness of their en- 
tertainments or the magnificence of their apart- 
ments ; for we find the consul Curius Dentatus, 
preparing his own dinner of roots on a little 
wooden bench, and receiving the ambassadors of 
the Samnites in that lowly and unostentatious 
condition. You, I have no doubt, recollect the 
answer he made to those deputies, when presunv 



224 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

ing upon his poverty, they offered him a bribe to 
prevail upon him to intercede in their behalf with 
the Senate : " Without doubt, my indigence 
makes you hope that you may corrupt me ; but 
you are mistaken. I had rather be the comman- 
der of rich men, than be rich myself: go tell 
your nation that they will find it as difficult to 
bribe as to conquer me." In these and in more 
remote ages, the Romans supped in an open hall, 
called the atrium, exposed to the eyes of the 
public ; for how sober and frugal soever their 
fare might be, they had no censure to appre- 
hend, and no ridicule to fear ; because every one 
observed the same simplicity of life, and made no 
effort to display greater magnificence. Till the 
destruction of the city by the Gauls, their houses 
were but humble cottages, and their dining hall 
served the purposes both of a drawing room and a 
kitchen, and each cottage or cabin was consider- 
ed in the light of a temple ; because, " it was in- 
habited by justice, probity, and honour."* But 
wealth and luxury, the spoils of the world and 
the vices of the east, finally led to a new system 
of manners, and a subversion of what had once 
constituted the principal source of their power, 
virtue, and happiness — their cabins were convert- 

* Seneca, 



LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 225 

ed into palaces, and their temperance and simpli- 
city changed into the excess of refinement and 
luxury. Lucullus, even in the days of the repub- 
lic, is said by Plutarch,* to have had his palace 
filled with magnificent saloons to entertain such 
as he invited to see him. " Not only his couches 
were spread with the richest purple carpets, his 
sideboards set out with plate adorned with pre- 
cious stones ; but his provisions were of the most 
exquisite kind." To each of his apartments a 
name was given, and each had its stated expense, 
its bill of fare, and its particular furniture. 

Cicero and Pompey having heard of the splen- 
dour and extravagance in which Lucullus lived, 
and doubting the correctness of the information, 
determined to satisfy themselves of its truth, and 
meeting him one day in the forum, they asked 
permiss'on to sup with him ; to which he gladly 
assented, and desired them to name the day — ■ 
this very evening, said Cicero, we will go home 
with you, provided you give us no more than 
what you sup on yourself. Lucullus was forced 
to comply ; but that he might not be able to have 
any thing added, they would not allow him to 
speak to his servants ; except to tell one of them 

* Plutarch's LucuL 



226 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

in their hearing that he would sup in the Apollo. 
This was sufficent — the expense allotted to that 
apartment was 15,000 drachms, and that was the 
cost of the entertainment given to his guests on 
this occasion. Pompey, it may reasonably be sup- 
posed, was not less astonished at the expense and 
splendour of the repast, than at the rapidity with 
which it was prepared.* It was now, says Sallust, 
that poverty was considered as a disgrace, inno- 
cence of manners as the effect of misanthropy, and 
the consequence of the wealth which had flowed 
into Rome by the conquests that had been achiev- 
ed, was luxury, avarice and pride "t The beauty 
and splendour of their saloons for eating were ri- 
valled only by the costliness and sumptuousness of 
the entertainments which were given in them. 
Nero's golden palace was the admiration and won* 
der of the Roman world ; it contained dining apart- 
ments as wonderful as they were magnificent. 
These were wainscoted with ivory, which turn- 
ing on pins, formed moving pictures. Along the 
wainscot were suspended wreaths of various 
flowers, from which dropped the richest and most 
costly perfumes. The most splendid of these 
rooms was circular and its constant motion imita- 

* Plutarch in Lucul. 
t SaJlust de Bell. Cat, 



UVES OP THE ROMANS. 227 

ted that of the celestial spheres.* If such were 
the splendour of their edifices, and the extrava- 
gance of their mode of life, it is not to he won- 
dered at if every thing else should correspond 
with the style, magnificence and elegance to 
which they had attained ; and instead of plain 
square tables made of wood which had been used 
in the more virtuous and innocent days of the re- 
public those of ivory and tortoise-shell, ornament- 
ed with plates of copper, silver and gold, and in- 
cased with precious stones, were employed. Their 
seats which before the second Punic war, had 
been rude wooden benches like those of the Cre- 
tans and Lacedemonians, were changed into rich 
and beautiful couches, and instead of setting at 
table, as had long been the usage, they reclined on 
their elbow in what they conceived the most easy 
and luxurious attitude. So unfashionable had sit- 
ting at table become, that it was considered as a 
mark of grief and mourning to do it ; and we find 
that CatOj after the defeat of Pompey , was so much 
afflicted that he never suffered himself to recline, 
but when it was necessary to sleep. Adieu for 
the present, in my next I will endeavour to bring 
this brief history to a close. 

* Crevier's Roman Emperors, Nero, 



LETTER VI. 



My dear Son : 

The couches which were introduced in. 
the place of benches, were at first very plain and 
unornamented ; but this simplicity, like every 
thing else in an age of refinement, was of short 
duration, and the greatest extravagance was soon 
exhihited in the materials and construction of 
these couches. They were called lecti tricli- 
niorum triclinares, to distinguish them from 
those on which they slept, and were at their first 
introduction three in number, and placed around 
the table. It was not long, however, before the 
three beds were exchanged for one couch of a 
richer appearance and more elegant shape. This 
they denominated the stribadium^ which was 
made in the form of a half moon or Grecian 
sigma, and esteemed in proportion to its eleva- 
tion. 



Lucent genialibus altis f 
Aurea fulcra toris. 






The guests were extended on these couches, 
each of which contained from three to five per- 
sons, in the following manner : — The first was 



LIVES ©F THE ROMANS. 229 

placed at the head of the couch, resting the fore- 
part of his body on his left elbow, that he might 
have the free use of his right arm while eating. 
His back was supported by a pillow which sepa- 
rated the guest from the feet of his companion, 
and also propped up his back and in the same 
manner all the rest were arranged. The centre 
of the middle couch was esteemed the most hon* 
orable position, and according to Horace was al- 
ways allotted to the master of the house.* This 
reclining posture was not only common among 
the Romans, but also among the Jews and other 
oriental nations. Their position at table al- 
ways brought the head of one in contact with the 
breast of the other, which explains what St. John 
asserts, that one of the disciples of Christ was 
placed at supper on the bosom of his Lord.f 
The place below the person who entertain- 
ed was assigned to females, and that above him 
to the most distinguished guests, and thence call- 
ed the consular place. J The number of those 



tSt. John, 13, 23, 

X Plutarch assigns the following reasons for this arrangement 
— 1st, that after the banishment of the Kings, the Cousuls to 
avoid giving offence to their countrymen, withdrew from the 
places which the princes used to occupy at the table, and leav- 
ing them to the master of the house, they decended one degree 

u 



230 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

invited, according to Gellius, was seldom less 
than three or more than nine. As soon as the 
company assembled, after having enjoyed the 
luxury of the bath, they assumed the vestes convi- 
vialis, or convivial frock which was very light and 
appropriate, and had their sola or shoes taken 
off, that no injury might be done to the rich and 
splendid carpets and the furniture of the couches. 
Being arranged at table, as I have already observ- 
ed, each guest was furnished with an exact list of 
the different services, and viands which were to 
form the entertainment ; and then followed the 
religious services, consisting of libations and 
prayers. This was a usage of the most remote 
antiquity, and observed by the ancients both be- 
fore and after their repasts. The statues of the 
household gods were placed on the table which 
served as the altar, and when any of the compa- 
ny took an oath, he touched the table as a thing 
holy and sacred, and not to be violated with im- 
punity. After the guests had washed their hands ? 
another preparatory service, 

Dant manibus famuli lymphas, 

they were decorated with garlands of roses 

below him. 2dly, that having always two beds for their 
friends, it was reasonable that he who gave the entertainment, 
should be so situated as to have his domesitcs under his own 
eye, — be able to see what was passing, and to give orders and 
entertain his guests. 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 231 

and other flowers of the season, which were wo- 
ven over their heads, arms and necks, and which 
were also accompanied with the finest and most 
exquisite essences and perfumes. The next 
act was to elect a King, who was chosen by 
vote from among the guests, and who prescribed 
laws and regulations for the government of the 
company at table, any violation of which was 
punished with a cup of wine more than the rest 
had drunk.* Cicero, you will recollect, says that 
Veres, who had trampled under foot all the laws 
of the Roman people, nevertheless punctually 
obeyed the laws of the table. The Roman sup- 
per generally consisted of three courses : the 
first was composed of fresh eggs, sallad, lettuce, 
olives, and such things as sharpened the appetite ; 
the second of roast and broiled meats, ragouts 
and other solid food, intermixed with fish, of 
which they were particularly fond, and the third 
or last course, of fruits, tarts and other dainties 
which constituted^ as among modern nations, the 
desert, and which they called the dulciaria and 
bellaria ; hence the proverb ab ovo usque ad 
mala. The slaves that attended at table were 
loosely attired, furnished with white napkins, 

* A custom very analogous to that of choosing a king'at table 
is still preserved among civilized nations, in the election of 
Presidents and Vice Presidents to serve at public dinners. 



232 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

and followed by a squire or leader, whose bu- 
siness it was to see the different dishes skilful- 
ly and judiciously arranged. When any thing 
rare was presented such as a fish or a bird of 
great value, it was accompanied by the sound of 
flutes and hautboys. The company at such 
times uttered exclamations of delight, and the 
master of the house conceived himself sufficient- 
ly compensated by these manifestations of plea- 
sure in his guests. It would seem that on those 
occasions, the most rational gratifications were ex- 
perienced from the nature of their conversation, 
and its exemption from every thing that could 
offend, irritate, or displease ; for we find Horace, 
in the ardour of poetic enthusiasm, exclaiming i 

Oh ! nights that furnish such a feast 
As even gods themselves might taste. 

^ft 3 . T? 4? ^F 3P "fi? 

Nor this man's house, nor that's estate, 
Becomes the subject of debate; 
But what concerns us more, I trow, 
And were a scandal not to know ; 
If happiness consists in store, 
Of riches or in virtue more ; 
What's real good without disguise, 
And where its great perfection lies. 
While thus we spend the social night. 
Still mixing profit with delight, 
My neighbour Cervius, never failsj 
To club his part in pithy tales.* 

* Horace, Lib. 2. Sat. 6, 



LIVES OP THE ROMANS. 233 

But these agreeable and rational repasts, re- 
moved alike from the rusticity of the more re- 
mote, and the refinement and extravagance of the 
more polished ages of Rome, were not of long 
duration ; and though extolled by the poets, and 
lauded by the orators and philosophers, they 
could not maintain their ground against the luxury 
and corruption which wealth had introduced, and 
which soon trampled under foot the sumptuary 
laws that had been established to preserve econ- 
omy and temperance of living. The appetite 
was pampered to satiety, and the wealth of a 
kingdom was sometimes squandered on a meal. 
The cook had now become the most important 
and necessary personage of the household, and 
the art itself, was cultivated as a science of the 
greatest difficulty, and the most essential utility. 
Profusion was carried to excess ; sea and land, 
says Sallust, were explored to supply rareties for 
the table, and the stomach was overloaded and dis- 
gorged, that the pleasure of eating might be con- 
tinued.* Every day, it is said, the emperor Clau- 
dius was obliged to be borne from table to bed, and 
while reclining on his back with his mouth wide 
open, a feather was thrust down his throat to as- 
sist him to vomit, and to ease his stomach. Vitel- 

* Suet. Claud. Vitel. 

U 2 



234 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

lius thought himself Emperor only to eat : he took 
four meals a-day and brought himself to a habit 
of vomiting, that he might renew his meals at 
pleasure. Every entertainment he received in 
his travels cost upwards of three thousand pounds 
sterling, and in one which he gave to his brother 
the profusion and expense were so excessive, 
that it was estimated at seven millions two hun- 
dred thousand pounds. In this, two thousand 
fish and seven thousand of the finest and most 
uncommon fowls were served up. The emperor 
himself, dedicated a silver dish, which from its 
great size, was called the shield of Minerva, and 
filled it with the livers of scarce fish, the brains of 
peacocks and pheasants, the tongues of the phcs- 
nicopterus, and the roes of lampreys.* Heiioga- 
balus was not behind his predecessors in luxury 
and extravagance ; his table was filled with dishes 
of mullet's livers, brains of thrushes, and heads of 
parrots, pheasants, and peacocks. His suppers 
never cost less than five hundred and fifty pounds, 
and often thrice that sum. In short, this once fru- 
gal and temperate people, became at last so glut- 
tonous and luxurious, that, according to Seneca,* 
they vomitted but to eat, and eat but to vomit ; and 
gave themselves no time to digest the rare and de- 

* Lampridius, 18, 32, 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 235 

licate food they had caused, at an immense ex- 
pense, to be brought from the extremities of the 
world. From this picture of beastly propensity, 
I know you will turn with loathing and disgust; 
because it is melancholy to contemplate the 
approximation of man to the brute — I shall there- 
fore quit it with pleasure, and proceed to give 
you a brief description of the splendour which 
usually and necessarily accompanied this indul- 
gence of the appetite. The manners of the Ro- 
mans had undergone a serious change, even from 
the year 477, when Cornelius Rufinus was expel- 
led from the Senate, though he had been twice 
consul and once dictator, for having a vessel of sil- 
ver on his table, weighing a little more than fif- 
teen marks. Laws had been passed, limiting the 
expense of an entertainment, and condemning 
alike the master of the house, the stranger, and 
the guest, when that limit was transcended. But 
these laws and usages were soon disregarded and 
scorned ;■' and even in the days of Sylla, Pliny 
informs us, their silver dishes exceeded two hun- 
dred marks in weight. In succeeding ages this 
extravagance, though checked for a time by the 
example of the virtuous Vespasian, continued 
to increase rather than diminish — and Helioga- 
balus, according to Lampridius, went far beyond 

* Seneca de Consoh 



236 DOMESTIC* OR PRIVATE 

even the conceptions of Nero and Vitellius. His 
couches were of massy silver, and covered with 
cloths of gold ; he fed his dogs on the livers of 
geese, and his lions on parrots and pheasants ; 
and every thing he did, was made to correspond 
with this unthinking extravagance. Having spo- 
ken of their meats at supper, it is necessary I 
should say something of the wines they drank. 
These, as among us, were estimated in propor- 
tion to their age ; and it was not uncommon to 
offer the guest wine which had been preserved in 
vessels of earth, and in garrets, instead of cellars, 
for near two hundred years. To render this li- 
quor more palatable, it was customary to mix 
with it honey, myrrh, or some other aromatic. 
Men, till towards the decline of the republic, 
were not permitted to drink this fine beverage, 
under the age of thirty years ; and Women were 
deemed infamous who were known to have used 
it, and condemned to death as for adultery. Till 
the six hundredth year of Rome, the vine was not 
cultivated, and prior to that time milk was em- 
ployed for libations to the gods, in their sacrifi- 
ces. Under the emperors, however, when virtue 
began to decline with liberty, women, as well as 
men, of all ages were indiscriminately permitted 
to drink what a Greek poet calls the milk oi Ve- 
nus, to any excess they pleased. 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS-. 237 

To put the guests in good humour, and to 
heighten the pleasure of the entertainment as 
much as possible, it was usual before supper, un- 
der the emperors, to draw lotteries, to which 
were attached blanks and prizes of small value. 
The tickets were gratuitously distributed among 
the company ; and in this, as in other lotteries, 
some drew nothing, while others, more fortu- 
nate, obtained jewels as their prizes. To this 
succeeded the game of dice and cocals ; which, 
though it had been prohibited by law, except 
during the saturnalia, became a favourite amuse- 
ment with the emperors, and even with Cato, 
the censor and Scevola, the civilian. These and 
other games were resorted to for amusement be- 
fore and during supper, which was rendered still 
more agreeable by the exhibition of buffoons, 
farces, music, dancing, pantomines and gladiatori- 
al combats. Seneca gives, in a few words, a 
picture of the splendour and magnificence of 
these entertainments. " Behold Apicius, reclin- 
ing upon his couch, covered with roses, contem- 
plating the magnificence of his table ; gratifying 
his ear with concerts the most harmonious ; his 
sight with spectacles the most delightful ; his 
smell with perfumes the most exquisite, and hi? 
palate with food the most delicious,' 7 



238 DOMESTIC, OR PRIVATE 

In addition to the games and amusements 1 
have enumerated, another custom, derived from 
the Greeks, existed and which became very com- 
mon at those entertainments. It consisted in the 
guests presenting the bowl or cup of wine as we 
do the glass, and drinking the health of his 
friends and patrons. The language used was pro- 
pine* tibi — bone tibi — bene Mi, #c. The act of 
passing round the cup usually closed the supper, 
and was denomiated the comessatio — and consi- 
dered as a mark of great liberty and condescen- 
sion. This ceremony of passing the cup round, 
was sometimes extended to midnight, and always 
preceded the libations and vows of the company 
for the prosperity of their host and of the em- 
peror, which closed the entertainment. After 
this, the master of the house distributed among 
his slaves a portion of the remains of the feast, 
and the rest that was fit to be preserved, was, 
with judicious frugality, put away and secured. 
What was neither worth preserving nor giving 
away was burned, and a sacrifice performed, call- 
ed protervia. Before the guests took their final 
leave, it was customary to receive from the host 
small presents, called from the Greek, apopacrela. 
Sometimes, however, these presents were very 
rich and costly, and corresponded with the splen- 
dour of the entertainment, and the extravagance 



LIVES OF THE ROMANS. 23& 

and opulence of the entertainer. Verus pre- 
sented to each of his guests, twelve in number, 
at their departure, a golden crown, and a vessel 
of gold and silver enriched with diamonds ; and 
Heliogabalus, who always used golden vessels at 
his feasts, distributed among his company all that 
had been used during the entertainment. 

Having thus often so sumptuously regaled and 
satisfied their appetite, they returned home, and 
if they had time, would spend the remainder of 
the evening before they retired for the night, in 
walking or settling and arranging their domestic 
concerns. Their beds, which in the early and 
virtuous ages of Rome, had been straw or leaves, 
and their covering the skins of animals, partook, 
after the conquest of Greece and Asia, which ren- 
dered them voluptuous and effeminate, in a high 
degree, of the magnificence and richness of every 
thing around them. Their beds were now beds 
of down; their bedsteads made either of the most 
beautiful wood elegantly carved, or of ivory, and 
sometimes, indeed, of massy silver, and their co- 
verlets of fine purple, enriched with gold. The 
form of these beds was somewhat similar to those 
in use with us, but so elevated as to require steps 
to ascend them. In these they reposed for the 
night 5 but their slumber could not have been the 



240 DOMESTIC LIVES OP THE ROMANS.^ 

invigorating and refreshing sleep of their an- 
cestors, unagitated by ambition, and unenfee- 
bled by luxury and excess. 

I have thus my dear son, brought the Bo- 
man day to a close ; and have given, I think, 
a picture of the domestic life of that interest- 
ing people at the different periods of their go- 
vernment, sufficiently enlarged to enable you to 
form a more correct and accurate conception of 
their character, than the mere perusal of their 
general history is calculated to furnish. In re- 
lation to the private life, laws, manners, and 
usages of the Greeks, you will be amply gratified 
and improved by a careful perusal of the travels 
of Anacharsis, by Barthelemy, a work to which I 
have already referred you, and which, though not 
distinguished for great brilliancy of fancy, evin» 
ces uncommon leaning, research, and labour. 



THE END, 



DAVIS & FORCE. PRINT. 



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